Page 46 of Samhain Savior

Asmodeus. Vine, if he ever stopped fucking around long enough to give a shit about power. Hell, even the Leviathan, although no one had seen his sorry ass for an age. All of us nearly equal in strength and stamina.

In truth, only the Dark Lord himself stood above us, and that was his due.

After what he’d been through, no one would dare to challenge him.

But whatever Delilah had done, it had been strong. Alarmingly so.

And that wasn’t the only alarming thing about the feisty little witch. Clenching my jaw, I tried to tamp down on the memory of her in my arms, pushing it out of my mind. One moment I had been ready to throttle her, the next, I was tasting her sweet lips, my shadows exalting at the contact.

I didn’t understand the unbearable need to touch her. It was like a compulsion, and in that moment, there was just no way I could have fought it any longer.

There was no excuse for my behavior; giving in to Delilah’s temptation would do nothing but endanger my brothers. I couldn’t afford the distraction the witch was proving to be.

I should just end her sorry life and be done with it.

It would be the smart thing to do, but for some reason, even the thought of hurting her was abhorrent to me.

Threat she may be, but I wasn’t quite ready to be done with Delilah and the mystery that she was becoming.

I did my best to hide my smirk as I thought about all the delicious ways I could torture her to get my answers.

I’d find a way to reveal her secrets, one way or another.

Tucking that puzzle away for later, I pushed past a glaring Corson and back into the house, the sound of breaking glass greeting me. Vine and Mal were in the kitchen, Mal still holding that ridiculous hedgehog, both of them seemingly content to watch for now.

“Uncle, please.” Persephone’s voice was pleading, almost desperate, as she tried to calm her raging uncle.

“Balance!” Nathaniel screamed, sounding hoarse, like he’d been yelling all day. “Samhain comes! The broken veil requires balance.”

Entering the hall, I saw him, his hair a mess where it had fallen out of its queue, attempting to shake off Persephone’s clutching hands. Nathaniel turned, his eyes wild as he caught sight of me, and I could smell his fear as it clouded up the hall.

“Archer!” Stumbling toward me, his boots crunching over a broken picture frame, the shards cutting through the image of Percy’s smiling face, leaving carnage in his wake. “Archer, please. You must understand. I didn’t have a choice.”

“A choice for what? Nathaniel, you’re not making any sense.”

“Secrets upon secrets.” Vine’s words were quiet, but I felt their weight settle across the room like a fog.

This was going to be bad.

“I didn’t want to tell them,” Nathaniel muttered, clinging to my shirt as he stood before me, his eyes pleading. “You have to know I didn’t.” Spinning away, he turned back to Percy, whose worried face was white as a sheet. “My darling, forgive me. I was trying to protect you. The veil...it requires balance. Balance. Balance.”

Eyes glazing over, Nathaniel began pacing, muttering under his breath the same words I’d seen repeated in his journal.

Desperate. Final. Samhain. Balance.

Over and over, he mumbled, like a man possessed.

“Nathaniel?” I asked, my worry rising.

“Savior,” he muttered, still not looking at me. “Samhain requires a savior.”

“Uncle,” Persephone tried again, her hand trembling as she reached for him. For a moment he calmed, his face cradled in her palm as he stared at her lovingly. “What balance? What do you mean, Uncle?”

“When the cross-quarter fires burn bright, the blood of the Light will be spilled, opening the Veil.” He spun from her, his eyes wild as he pointed at me. “You must protect the Light!”

“Nathaniel—”

“I’m sorry, Archer. I didn’t want to do it.”