Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) by Airicka Phoenix, Morgana Phoenix Page A

him. “You should go home,” she told him.
    “Not until you tell me who you are.”
    Shadows danced over her features, but her eyes continued to shimmer as though illuminated by a glow from within.
    “Valkyrie.”

Chapter Three
    M agnus and Reggie weren’t back when Gideon and his father returned to the manor. His mother, Riley, and Imogen sat in the main room when they walked in. Octavian was at the bar, systematically arranging bottles behind the counter for that evening’s crowd.
    His mother’s head came up when the door shut behind them. Her face broke into a brilliant smile that was returned by his father as he crossed to her and pressed a kiss to her waiting mouth.
    Gideon moved to the bar. He needed a damn drink.
    “How was the meeting?” she asked his father when he pulled away.
    “Uneventful and a waste of my time,” he answered.
    “Didn’t Arild have anything useful to say?” she asked as he pulled a chair over and dropped into it.
    Gideon poured himself a very tall glass of whiskey and went to dump himself into a stool at the bar.
    “Solitudinem fecerunt, pacem appelunt,” Gideon mumbled absently to himself as he watched the gentle sway of light along the rim of his glass.
    Or maybe Cicero had said it better: silent enim leges inter arma . In times of war, the law really did fall silent. Everyone wanted something and it was never peace. Arild Devereaux was no exception. Getting them brought to the manor, demanding an audience, and for what? It was all about control, to prove that he was lord and master of all. That when he summoned, all bowed to his command. It was all just another game.
    “Tacitus?” Octavian eyed him with an arched brow. “ Solitudinem fecerunt, pacem appelunt— they made a desert and called it peace.”
    Gideon smirked as the cool glass touched his lips. “They were both such wise men.”
    Octavian frowned. “Both?”
    Gideon opened his mouth to recite Cicero out loud, but his father was speaking.
    “Nothing,” he was saying with a mild hint of exasperation in his voice. “Of course he made it sound like everything he was saying was important, but he knows about as much as we do. The harpies were attacked last night, probably about the same time as...” He shot Imogen an apologetic smiled. “He believes it’s a group of demons.”
    His mother sighed. “This is just horrible.”
    His father nodded. “We did agree to double our patrols. We’re going to call a meeting with the other leaders, see if we can’t organize a hunting party. I must contact the humans and make them aware of the situation in case those involved expand their spree to them.” He rubbed at his face in frustration and swept his hand back through his hair. “Arild thinks the attacks are personal, a possible vendetta against the families, or a single member of said family—”
    “No one in my family has ever associated with demons,” Imogen interrupted. “My father believed very strongly that we needed to keep to ourselves. It wasn’t safe.”
    “What wasn’t safe, Imogen?” his mother asked.
    Imogen took a deep breath. “We predict death,” she explained. “When the war began, my kind refused to take sides and a lot of us were slaughtered because of it. But we knew why we were wanted so badly and we couldn’t let ourselves be used like that.”
    “Why?” Riley asked. “I mean about being wanted so badly.”
    “Banshees have the ability to foretell the outcome of a battle,” Octavian said from across the room. “With them on your side, you will know if your side will win, or if you should escape to fight another day. It’s an unfair advantage, but it was drastic times.”
    Imogen nodded. “We’ve been hiding ever since. My father would never put us in danger by going to a demon for anything.”
    “What about your mother? Or sisters?” Gideon prompted.
    “Never,” Imogen said at once. “My mother was terrified that we would get found. My sisters were all too young to even