King of the Damned: A League of Guardians Novel by Juliana Stone Page B

inches from them, his gaze sweeping the now-empty bar. When his eyes rested on Rowan, the intensity in his eyes touched her as if he’d taken his hand and run it along her cheek. It made her nervous—scared her even—this connection she felt to him.
    “Do you know what that cloud is?” Thank God she sounded somewhat normal.
    He nodded. “First wave.”
    “First wave?” Hannah asked, a touch of fear in her voice. “God, do I want to know what that means? Sounds like a mother-trucker of a sci-fi movie or something.”
    “Okay, I can’t let this go again.” Rowan turned to her cousin. “ Mother-trucker? Really?”
    “Look, I’m trying to curb my potty mouth, all right? You got a problem with that?”
    “No, I just . . . it’s not you.”
    “Well this is the new me. So get used to it.”
    “More like Simon Bayfield’s idea of a new you,” Frank snorted.
    “Who?” Rowan asked.
    “He’s no one,” Hannah answered a little too quickly. “First wave?” she prodded.
    “The first of many if I’m reading this right,” Frank answered. The burly man heaved a sigh and shook his head. “This is worse than I thought.” He looked at Rowan. “It’s him, right? Mallick?”
    Startled, Rowan glanced at Hannah, but her cousin shrugged. “He knows everything.”
    “That is a family secret.” Rowan was incensed. “Only the coven knows. Only the coven is supposed to know.”
    “I didn’t tell him.” Hannah’s chin rose defensively. “Your mother did.”
    Rowan opened her mouth but didn’t quite know how to respond. It seemed as if Frank Talbot knew her mother a lot more intimately than she’d realized.
    “None of that matters now. That cloud dispatched several assassins, who are now looking for”—Azaiel’s gaze swung to Hannah—“you.”
    “Me? But I’m not the one they want . . .” Her voice trailed away as she fisted her hands, the gun still held within her grasp. “Right. The entire coven is marked. I guess they don’t really care who they take out.”
    Hannah’s gaze swung past Azaiel until her electric blue eyes rested on Rowan.
    “Hannah—” Rowan started.
    “It’s okay, Rowan.” She shrugged, nonchalantly, but Rowan knew it wasn’t. Her cousin was scared, and so was she. Neither one of them had faced something like this before—and they’d faced a lot in their day. For as long as Rowan could remember, the James witches had protected Salem. Ever since the infamous witch trials of the 1600s, the entire area had been a hotbed of demon activity. But this? This was unprecedented.
    “It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten out of hand, don’t you think? And I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda looking forward to kicking some demon ass.”
    Rowan stared at her cousin, helpless anger bubbling to the surface. She couldn’t stand to lose anyone else. Not Hannah. Not Abigail. Not anyone. There would be no more James blood spilled. She glanced at Azaiel. Or anyone else’s for that matter. Not if she could help it.
    Hannah tucked the gun inside the waistband of her jeans and grinned. “So what’s the plan?”
    “We leave this place,” Azaiel said. “There are too many innocents, and if we stay, there will be casualties, of that you can be certain.”
    Rowan nodded. “The Black Cauldron is where we need to be. It’s where we’re the strongest and because it’s on the outskirts of Salem, it’s isolated. There’s less chance of any civilians getting hurt. I don’t think a second wave will look there again. Not yet.”
    “So that leaves the first wave to deal with,” Hannah inserted.
    “Sure does,” Frank answered.
    “It will be dangerous.” Rowan needed him to understand the severity of the situation.
    Frank’s pale eyes glistened with a fire that she recognized all too well. He was a warrior, and it was obvious that he wanted to fight.
    “Call your family and get them as far away from here as you can.”
    “Already done.”
    Rowan nodded. “Okay. Let’s