Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) (16 page)

His anger soured in his gut. “What are you talking about?”

“Harvesters work based on a code of conduct,” he began slowly. “For them, loyalty and bravery are the things that earn respect. It’s why they burn marks into their forearms. It is a sign of great honor. To disrespect your house, never mind your king, is a crime punishable by death, or worse.”

“But she didn’t do anything,” Gideon protested, barely suppressing the rising bile climbing up his chest. “This is my fault.”

“That does not matter to Arild. You attacked a member of his house because of her and that is all he sees.”

Hot and cold chills coursed through him, kindling the strong urge to vomit. “But why not come after me then?”

“That isn’t his job,” his father said sharply. “That was Valkyrie’s job. To uphold her family’s honor, it was up to her to punish you, which she didn’t.”

Arild Devereaux wasn’t a kind, understanding man. He was sadistic and cold and so twisted in the old ways that stories of his cruelty were legendary. He killed his own wife over a rumor, one that couldn’t possibly be true. Anyone who had ever met Valkyrie’s mother knew straight away what a frail and timid woman she had been for a Harvester. Gideon had only met the woman a few times before her death and she had always struck him as soft and gentle, a harsh contrast to her bold and fierce daughters. But she was incapable of the crimes she had been accused of, yet that hadn’t stopped Arild from killing her to make a point. Hurting or even killing Valkyrie would mean nothing to him.

“I have to find her.”

He had to. Just the thought of something happening to her made his world tilt and his chest cinch.

“You can’t.” His father’s voice stopped Gideon inches from the door. “Interfering will only make matters worse. Also, you won’t find her if he does not wish it.”

“Then I will tear his fucking house to the ground until I do!” he snarled, whirling around. “I won’t let him hurt her. I’ll kill him first.”

“Then you will start a war!” his father shot back at him. “You will tear apart the treaty we all worked so hard to create. You will kill her.”

Gideon roared. Something slammed into the wall and cluttered in pieces to the ground. It took him a moment to realize he’d thrown a chair.

“What am I supposed to do?” Breathing hard, he stared at his father. “Leave her to suffer for something I did?”

The anger was gone from Liam’s face. His eyes were narrowed, but with contemplation, and his head was cocked ever so slightly to the side as though he were listening to something in the distance. He studied Gideon like he was a complex puzzle that didn’t make sense. Then, very slowly, something came to life behind Liam’s eyes and they widened. His mouth parted in surprise.

“She’s your mate.”

“W
hat?” His mother bolted out of her chair. “Gideon?”

Gideon wasn’t listening to her. His focus was fixed on his father, who was still watching him, waiting for a response to his non-question. Even Octavian and Riley were waiting with wide-eyed shock.

“She’s my mate,” he confirmed.

There was no point denying it.

“How ... when ... why...?” His mother couldn’t seem to latch onto a single train of thought.

“How long?” his father asked for her.

Gideon snorted what could have almost passed for a laugh. “Three hundred years, give or take.”

“That long?” his mother gasped. “That long and you never told us? Why?” The hurt in her voice cut at him.

“She’s a Harvester,” he reminded them.

His father drew in a breath. “You were protecting her.”

Gideon’s smile was wretched. “Isn’t that what we do?”

“Oh my poor baby!” His mother hurried across the room and engulfed him in a fierce embrace. “You should have said something.”

“What difference would it have made?” But he still held her back tight.

“Isn’t there something that can be done?” Riley piped in. “I mean if Gideon imprints on her, there’s really nothing anyone can do, right? I mean Valkyrie’s not human so it’s not like they have to worry about the angels and the promise and stuff. She’s a Caster like him.”

“She’s a Harvester,” his father said.

Riley just shook her head, looking confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Back before the Great War, Harvesters were creatures who guided fallen warriors to heaven. The Norse used to call them Valkyries. During the war, they joined the angels because they are basically as close to being angels as one could possibly get, except that they were the children of angels and demons and considered filth along with the rest of us.”

Riley squinted. “I thought that was the Nephilim.”

Liam shook his head. “Those are children of angels and humans.”

Riley blew out a breath. “For a bunch of divine beings who consider sex a mortal sin, they sure have a lot of it themselves.”

Despite the tension, everyone chuckled.

“Harvesters have their own laws,” his father went on. “One of those laws is that they are forbidden to marry outside their species, or lose their virginities for it gives them their power and without it, they are considered ... useless.”

“Also only their king can pick who they marry,” his mother piped in, pulling away from Gideon. “Unlike selkies, they don’t imprint so for them, it’s a matter of producing the best offspring.”

“So Valkyrie has to marry who her father chooses for her?” Riley seemed to think about this a moment before speaking again. “Okay, but that’s still not a problem. Gideon would make great offsprings.” She wrinkled her nose. “That didn’t sound so weird in my head.”

Moving to take the seat next to Riley, Gideon offered her a lopsided grin. “I’m totally in agreement.”

“But Gideon isn’t a Harvester,” his mother said, returning to her seat. “To pick him would get her banished.”

“If she’s lucky,” his father added. “It would be considered a dishonor, like she doesn’t trust her king to make a proper match for her, or not believing her own people are good enough for her. She would be considered a traitor.” He paused. “She would be tortured and killed.”

“Even if Arild Devereaux adores me,” Gideon added, trying to lighten the mood. All this talk of Valkyrie dying was wrenching a hole through him.

“They would remove her marks and that’s basically the worst thing close to death for a Harvester.” His mother shook her head slowly. “And Valkyrie has worked so hard for each one of hers.”

Riley frowned. “Her marks? You mean those burns on her arm?”

His father nodded. “A warrior can only earn them through extreme physical, mental, and emotional trials. The things they must do are—”

“Barbaric!” his mother blurted, eyes flashing with rage.

His father smiled kindly at her as he continued. “I was going to say brave, but yes, they are barbaric as well.”

“Valkyrie has six,” Riley recalled.

“Yes,” his father murmured. “Her sister Serinda has thirteen.”

“How do they get them?” Riley asked. “I mean what sort of things do they have to do?”

No one seemed willing to answer, like they weren’t comfortable recollecting those memories.

It was Magnus who spoke. “We’re not the only Gatekeepers,” he said quietly as he drifted over to a nearby table and dropped into a chair. “There are four other doors, making up the four corners of a compass. North, west, east, and south. Each one is guarded by a group of Casters and Keepers and each one has their own rules. We have a bar. We take applications. We review them and select the most non-threatening demons to enter the human world. Others don’t follow that procedure. The Harvesters hail from the west and while their process is nowhere near as violent or bloody as those of the south, it can be ferocious during their selection.”

Riley seemed to think about this a moment before speaking. “So how do they select which demons to allow pass?”

“The warriors fight them,” Gideon muttered.

Riley’s frown deepened. “But that’s not so bad. Valkyrie seems to really like killing things.”

Gideon snorted a laugh, but couldn’t find the stomach to answer her.

“They’re starved, kept awake for days, and then whipped before being thrown into the pit with the monster with nothing but their bare hands,” Magnus said for him.

“What?” Riley looked horrified. “How is that fair? That’s horrible!”

“That’s how Harvesters are made,” Magnus mumbled. “They must survive the most extreme conditions.”

“And Valkyrie did this six times ...
willingly
?”

“It is not willingly!” his mother exclaimed, cheeks pink with anger. “They have no choice. If they don’t accept, they are tortured, whipped, and beaten to the point of death before being tossed into the arena. Most of the time, they’re barely conscious or are so badly injured, death is a welcome. Only even if they do win, they don’t get a mark and are disgraced. The only choice they have is the condition in which they get sent in.”

Liam moved around the table and lightly set his hands on her tense shoulders. He rubbed down the lengths of her arms until she melted back into him.

“They are heartless,” his mother went on, quieter now. “They feel no compassion, no remorse. They are all about honor and duty.”

Riley looked down at the table. “I guess that explains why Valkyrie’s so ... intense.” Her shoulders sagged. “Why can’t this be easy just for once?”

“Because, little sister,” Gideon slipped an arm around the back of her chair. “Life isn’t easy.”

She faced him. “What are you going to do?”

Gideon shrugged. “Same thing I’ve been doing for the better part of three centuries—nothing.”

“Does she know?” Riley asked.

He shook his head.

“Why not?” Something akin to hope sparkled in the crimson pools. “Maybe if you tell her she’ll—”

“What?” He gave her a sardonic grin. “Get beaten, humiliated, and tortured for me? Get killed for me? No. It’s better she doesn’t know.”

“But—”

“It won’t do anyone any good, Riley,” he said firmly. “Let it go.”

No one said anything, not even Riley. She rose from her seat and walked over to the bar. Octavian glanced up when she reached him and, without a word, slipped her arms around his middle. Something akin to calm passed over his brother’s face as he engulfed the tiny woman into his chest and pressed quiet words into the top of her head. Gideon had never been the jealous sort, especially never of his brothers, but damn if he didn’t want the ability to hold the woman he loved without risk, without worry.

A
nxiety kept him awake that night long after the bar had closed and everyone else had gone to bed. He stayed downstairs, drowning his thoughts in bourbon and stale chips. His gaze wore a restless path to the doors, willing her to walk through.

She didn’t.

“Have you been here all night?” His mother, coffee mug in hand, joined him at the table.

“No,” he lied.

She didn’t look like she believed him, but he was relieved when she didn’t call his bluff.

“Did Valkyrie return?”

He shook his head, gazing intently at the amber liquid in his glass.

“I am sure she is fine.”

While Gideon told himself that he would feel it if her father decided that death was the only satisfying punishment, he couldn’t shake the coiling tension sitting rigid in the pit of his stomach. He hated not knowing what to do and being unable to do what he wanted. As much as he craved it, plunging a dagger deep into Arild Devereaux’s chest cavity and watching as life faded from his eyes, would never be more than a happy fantasy.

It was probably unhealthy, this obsession he carried around. Wanting his mate’s father dead in the most horrific manner would undoubtedly not earn him any sort of brownie points, but he just didn’t care. He wanted the man dead. He wanted to be the one to do it.

1
783, New found launde, Canada

It was a task reminding himself they weren’t doing anything wrong, that hunting together was normal and social etiquette had nothing to do with it. It didn’t matter that it was improper for a young lady to be seen wandering aimlessly through back allies with a man that wasn’t a relative. She was a Caster first and, since the treaty, his hunting partner.