The Dawnvel Druids, - [most inspirational books of all time TXT] 📗

bedroom, but forced herself to knock lightly and push the door open.

Warren didn’t hear her enter. His earphones were in as he stood in the corner of his room, grunting as he lifted the dumbbells up before swinging them back down again.

He was topless, his muscles even bigger than normal as the blood rushed through them. He’d tied his dark hair back from his face, and it was already damp from sweat.

All of them were lucky to have large, spacious bedrooms in the house, yet they didn’t always seem that way with how much clutter they’d all piled in.

Lana had nabbed the biggest room for herself, naturally, yet hers was also the

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most crowded with furniture and the numerous belongings she didn’t really need. Due to this, Warren’s room always seemed to be the biggest, with how minimalist it was.

Bare wooden floorboards ran the length of the room, since he hadn’t bothered to have any carpet, whilst his bed lay in one corner, his workout bench and weights in the other. No TV, sofa or barely any personal belongings could be seen in the room.

Warren turned toward her suddenly, dropping the dumbbells in shock. The weights had been so large Simone was surprised they didn’t crash straight through the floor.

“Simone,” he rasped, his blue eyes blazing with anxiety.

“Are you sure you should be working out after what you’ve been through tonight?”

“I’m fine,” he murmured, seizing his bottle of water and taking huge gulps.

“What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “I…just wanted to see how you’re doing. After everything, I mean.”

“Me?” he slammed the water bottle back on his windowsill. “I’ve never been better. Why would anything be wrong? It’s not like my best friend is dead, or that I’m no longer with the girl I’m in love with, is it?”

In love with?

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“C’mon,” she said quietly, closing the door behind her and edging into the room. “Don’t be like that.”

She tried not to let his words stun her. They’d told each other they’d loved each other before, but that had been months ago, before it had all fallen apart.

But not he’d admitted that nothing had changed for him.

“Like what,” he replied, taking off his workout gloves and laying them on his weight bench.

“Don’t pretend nothing’s happened. I’m here if you want to talk about…about Zander. About anything.”

“Okay,” he stepped towards her, his pumped-up chest muscles very distracting. “How about we talk about the new kid. Some random stranger you brought in off the streets. Are you really in that much of a rush to replace Zander, to pretend he never existed?”

His words hurt her like a punch to the gut. “I can’t believe you just said that. I can’t believe you could even think it.”

Warren had the good grace to look down at his feet, ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not consciously trying to replace Zander, but maybe in your grief, you’re just latching on to someone.”

“You know every coven needs seven!” she cried. “This isn’t about replacing anyone I swear.”

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“I just…it’s too much of a coincidence,” said Warren. “We all knew this day would come, but not this quickly. I don’t trust this Bobby, not when we have no idea who killed Zander.”

“You can’t really think it was him.”

“Because he looks so pathetic.” The ghost of a smile flitted across his lips.

“No, the fact Bobby genuinely didn’t know druids existed before today. But I know I can’t convince you to trust him just like that. I didn’t come here to talk about Bobby, anyway.”

“Why did you?” He looked into her eyes, and his own eyes seemed to be swirling slowly, the brighter blue motes swimming in the darker navy.

“Because I’m worried about you. Grief affects everyone differently. I know you don’t show your emotions, and I’m…I’m just worried about you okay.”

“Worried I’ll do something stupid.” He took another step closer. There were only a few inches between them now. Simone took a deep, involuntary breath, her senses filling with Warren’s sweat and the spicy, sandalwood smell from his cologne. She’d missed that smell.

“You’ve already started,” she replied, though allowed herself to smile a little.

“You shouldn’t have gone after so many gargoyles on your own. You’re lucky you weren’t seriously hurt.”

“It helped me forget though.” His eyes clouded over with pain. “When I was fighting, everything else went away. It was better.”

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“Warren,” she murmured, leaning in to him and stretching her arms over his broad back. “It’s okay.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. For the first time since she’d learned of Zander’s death Simone felt safe, here in his arms.

“It isn’t.” He chuckled humourlessly.

“I know, I just couldn’t think of what else to say.”

As she made to end their embrace, Warren looked down at her.

“Like I said, just don’t do anything stupid,” she muttered.

“Like this?”

His mouth pressed down on hers suddenly. Shock flooded through her for a heartbeat, before she eagerly returned the kiss. Her hand travelled up and clutched his long, damp hair. It felt like forever since they’d last kissed. He moaned softly, his lips vibrating against hers and Simone found herself opening her mouth, deepening the kiss. Her tongue wrestled against his as she held his head tight and arched her body into his own.

She wanted this, needed this, but she shouldn’t, she couldn’t. Simone broke it off.

“We can’t,” she panted, moving away reluctantly. “It…it isn’t a good idea right now. Neither of us are thinking straight.”

“I never do when it comes to you,” said Warren, gazing at her in wonder.

She could tell he wanted more, and so did she. She wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss him again, to push him over to his bed and… no!

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She’d read about the things grief did. She’d broken up with Warren for a reason. She had no idea if they would get back together, or ever could get back together, but she knew she risked losing him as a friend too if she led him on like this. What kind of person would she be if she broke up with him and then continued to hook up with him afterwards whenever either of them were feeling low?

“I- I’m sorry. I should go. I just wanted to let you know I’m here for you, if you ever need to talk about it all,” she said it all in a whispered rush, hastily backing toward the door.

She knew Warren wanted to argue, but instead he just watched her go, the agony back in his eyes.

*

Simone hurried through the darkened streets, on the tail of the gargoyles looking for food tonight. She’d thought it would be a quiet patrol tonight, especially after already battling them today, but no such luck.

She’d offered to take tonight’s sweep of the town off of Dreg. She needed to get out of the house, to clear her mind from what had happened in Warren’s room barely an hour ago.

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Several minutes into her patrol she’d found a lone handbag on the pavement, its contents spilling out in a river of cosmetics. There’d been a purse too, still full, and the strap of the bag had been ripped.

Her first thought had been to hope this was a simple mugging, but what failure of a mugger would leave behind the very thing he attacked someone for?

Sure, the handbag could’ve belonged to some poor victim of a normal abduction, but this was Dawnvel. Chances were, the crime committed here wasn’t a matter for normal police.

Simone had cast a tracer spell on the red leather bag, and now held her wand at arm’s length, letting it lead her to the last person to touch the bag. Currently, the wand had led her away from the Dawnvel’s residential area and closer to the edge of town.

Even as she scoured Dawnvel town for signs of trouble, it hadn’t taken her mind off Warren and their kiss, nor her paranoia about Bobby and the fact he might not make it to becoming a druid. The one silver lining of the gargoyle activity was that it allowed Simone to forget her problems, just for a little while.

Her wand vibrated and veered to the left, guiding her across the road and toward one of the three local supermarkets in Dawnvel. This one stood proudly at the front of the industrial estate behind it. The large, multi-purpose store teemed during the day, but now it was devoid of any life signs at all.

Her wand shook to the left, down the side of the supermarket, to the loading bay where their deliveries took place.

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A screamed rent the still air, swiftly cut off and muffled. Simone pressed herself against the wall of the supermarket before entering the bay as she heard gruff voices close by.

“Jack you moron. I thought you knocked her out.”

“I did James,” Jack snarled back. “The bitch woke up didn’t she. What does it matter anyway, no one can see us now?”

“Someone might’ve heard us, dumbass.”

“So what?” said a third voice. “If another person comes down here it just means more food for us.”

“Here here,” someone else cheered.

“Not if that someone is a damned druid,” James shot back. “You know about them. We were all warned.”

“Your paranoid mate,” said Jack. “That’s just stories our sire told us so we don’t kill our food out in the open. Now stop being a baby and lets kill this one, her fidgeting is getting on my nerves.”

Simone chanced a look around the wall and down the loading bay. A group of four hulking men stood at the very end. One of them, Jack, held a struggling girl tight, his hand clamped over her mouth.

The four men were only a couple of years older than her, but by the unnatural grey tinge to their skin they were all gargoyles, recently turned too. The blonde woman Jack held captive looked to be in her early thirties, her face stained with mascara and tear tracks.

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Crap. Simone thought she could probably handle four gargoyles, but the risk was too great. She dove into her pocket and snatched out her phone, rapidly texting Mo her location and that she needed help. Her first instinct had been to contact Warren, but he’d been through too much today already. She certainly wasn’t going to call Lana; she’d tease her mercilessly. Maurice would also be the only other coven member already awake, likely gaming as always.

There was no time for her to wait for Mo, however. They were about to kill the young woman any moment now.

Simone gripped her wand tight, grabbing the hilt of her dagger with her free hand she hurried down the bay.

“Let her go now!” she cried, willing a fireball to bloom on the end of her wand to serve a warning to what she was capable of.

The four gargoyles flinched in surprise, and James even put his hands up in surrender as she approached.

“What’re you doing, mate?” Jack barked out a laugh. “It’s just a little girl.”

“She’s one of them, a druid.” James insisted.

Now