Blood of the Zodiac

  Guardians of the Zodiac Stone Series

  Book One

  Isadora Brown

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Newsletter Information

  Did You Like Blood of the Zodiac?

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Creak!

  My bedroom window slid open, and the cool air filled the tiny space. I snapped an eye open, my body tense.

  The silhouette moved like a shadow—for what; I didn’t know.

  Shadowvale wasn’t exactly the best neighborhood. Break-ins happened all the time and–

  Actually, I knew that gait.

  That arrogant, cocky swagger–

  For someone who was supposed to be stealth and dangerous, a wraith in the shadows, he could certainly be loud.

  I closed my eyes, keeping my breathing even. As much as I wanted to look over my husband and make sure he was in the one piece even though I definitely didn’t care one way or the other, I was curious to see if he could tell⁠—

  “I know you’re awake, Elara.”

  I wrinkled my nose and cracked open an eye at the flat tone.

  I sighed dramatically and stood up, lifting my arms over my head to stretch. The loose T-shirt raised up, and I suppressed a yawn.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, looking down at my hands.

  Anywhere but him.

  “Can’t I see my beautiful, lovely wife?” he asked with an arrogant grin I was sure made other women’s hearts flutter in delight. As it was, I wanted to stomp all over them and save them the trouble. I had never loved Toru, but he still somehow annoyed the hell out of me.

  Some kind of skill, on top of all the other ones he had.

  “You forgot fake and obligated,” I muttered.

  “Oh, Elara,” he said, tilting his head to the side so his white hair that stuck up at all ends tilted along with him. “You’re such a romance killer, you know that?”

  He sat on the windowsill, long legs stretched out in front of him. But there was something about his posture…

  My lips curled, and I moved closer to him. The heavy scent of blood and sweat overpowered his natural masculine musk.

  Another thing I hated about him.

  “Where?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Elara—“

  “Where?”

  “Troublesome wife,” he said, but he lifted his arm.

  “Stop calling me…” My eyes dropped to his side. Blood. His blood.

  My heart skipped a beat. Hideo Toru did not bleed. It just…it wasn’t possible. He was the Shadowblade of Serendal.

  Of course, I had stitched up minor cuts, given him ice or frozen peas for swelling and bruises, and there was one time after a particularly bad mission where I gave him a massage. Something he still wouldn’t let me forget.

  But seeing him bleed like this…

  “What the hell, Toru?” I turned from him and moved to my closet — not quite a run, but not a lazy saunter either. “What happened? It was supposed to be a Star mission. Recon. Simple and easy. Especially for you. Blood was not part of that equation.”

  “What’s this? Is my dear wife concerned over me?”

  I scowled.

  He shrugged. “Probably should have been a Celestial rank,” he admitted.

  I hated how nonchalant he was. I didn’t have to look at his face to know that stupid smirk was on it. He was always so casual about the serious stuff, and as a battle-hardened vet of the War of Shattered Skies, it infuriated me that he could be so casual about something as serious about this.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  I reached my closet, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from peppering him with questions. If he wanted to talk, he would. While Hideo Toru wasn’t a man of many words, there were times when he did feel compelled to share what was on his mind, but those moments were so few and far between. And I had known Toru for so long that asking him for answers wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I had to be patient, something I wasn’t good at, especially since we rarely spent time together. Most of the time, he was on missions and only came to check on me because of some obligation he felt towards my grandfather.

  Stupid dying wish.

  I stood on my toes, pawing around on the shelf until my hand closed around a familiar kit.

  There.

  I pulled it down and headed back over to him.

  “Take off your shirt,” I ordered when I was directly in front of him.

  “If you wanted me out of my clothes, Lar, all you had to do was ask. We haven’t actually consummated the marriage, after all.”

  Nickname — check.

  Arrogant, annoying smirk — check.

  Clearly, Toru wasn’t going to die, but even I detected a slight strain in his voice. No one else would have, but I did.

  He peeled off his flack jacket and the tight undershirt. They fell to the floor with a heavy plop. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve tried to catch a glimpse of his remarkably defined torso. He might have been fourteen years my senior, but he was still a spectacle to behold. He put boys my age to shame.

  He was my husband, and I rarely got to see him stripped of his shirt.

  I hadn’t ever seen him naked.

  And that was a good thing.

  I just forgot what he looked like because of it. Which I shouldn’t. I needed to focus.

  Tonight was different.

  Tonight was serious.

  “Have you learned how to sew yet?” he asked flatly.

  I popped open my kit and looked for a Neosporin gauze. I tore it open with my teeth and placed the soaked towel onto his injury. I didn’t warn him about the sting and he didn’t flinch. After pressing into him for a moment, I peeled it back, cleaning up the surrounding area. When I finished, I stepped back so I could assess it better.

  “I’ve seen you worse than this,” I said. “You’ll need stitches.”

  “You never answered my question,” he said. “About sewing.”

  “I practice on Brownie every week.”

  Toru looked over my shoulder and caught sight of the horse stuffed animal I still had when I was a baby.

  He frowned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Don’t be such a baby, old man.” I jerked my head to my bed. “Sit.”

  “I don’t want to get blood on your sheets.”

  “You aren’t the first Sentinel crawling into my window,” I said. “I’ve had worse things on my sheets and Mama Joy downstairs somehow always gets the stains out. She’s some kind of miracle worker.”

  “Other Sentinels have been here?” he asked casually, glancing around. I swore, those clear blue eyes saw things I couldn’t.

  “I’m surprised with your sense of smell, you haven’t picked up Kaito’s body spray.”

  “Kaito?” Toru asked. There was an edge to his voice, though I didn’t understand why.

  “Yeah. His team. Other teams.” I grabbed the needle and thread and crudely put it together. “You know you’re going to have to go to the hospital tomorrow. I’m sure Emmy is counting down the seconds when you’ll stroll in there and be her patient again.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re my wife,” he pointed out. “I don’t look at other girls.”

  “Don’t joke about that,” I said in a low voice, refusing to look at him. I knew who he was. He shouldn’t tease me about being loyal. I knew he wasn’t, and that was fine, but he didn’t have to flaunt that fact as a joke.

  “Jealousy doesn’t become you, Lar.”

  “I’m jealous because Emmy is the best nurse in Serendal,” I quipped. “Why you come to me, I don’t understand.”

  “I hate hospitals,” he said flatly. “You know this.”

  “I’m going to —“

  “You don’t have to —“

  I pierced his skin with the needle. He still didn’t flinch, but he pressed his lips together. I didn’t bother hiding my amusement.

  “You’re going to scar again,” I said. “They have balms at the hospital. Good ones. And Emmy’s hands are so tiny and girlie and they always have really pretty polish on them. You’d probably never scar with her.”

  “I don’t mind your scars,” he murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear him.

  I leaned close, slowly going through the motions of stitching up human flesh. In and out. In and out. The way the skin sealed up fascinated me.

  “So…Kaito comes here?” Toru asked again, eyes on m
y stained ceiling.

  “What about it?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “Why, what?” I wrinkled my nose. This conversation was pointless.

  “Why not go to the hospital?” he asked. “He’s still a kid —“

  “The youngest Sentinel in Aegis,” I said.

  “How do you even know that?”

  “Because the civs won’t shut up about it.” I rolled my eyes. It could be annoying going to a college filled with civilians when I lived next to the Shadowblade. Sometimes, I wished I could be at the Celestial Institute, but students had to have magic, and I didn’t have any of that.

  “You’re a civ, and yet, you have Aegis teams coming to your home at odd hours, asking to be patched up?” A beat. “That wouldn’t happen if everyone knew you were my wife, you know.”

  I sighed, pausing so I wouldn’t accidentally pull on the string. I didn’t want to talk about that. I didn’t understand why Toru wanted to announce it. At least this way, with no one knowing, we could live our lives separately—as separate as we could being neighbors. Another part of that death wish. And when Toru did hook up with other women, I wouldn’t be made to look like a fool.

  “It’s rare to be a Sentinel and a student at CI, from what I hear,” I said, ignoring his second comment altogether. “The only other Sentinel who’s accomplished the feat is you.” I slid the needle into his skin once more. “I always thought you talked about me or something.”

  “I never talk about you at work.”

  “Jeez, way to sugarcoat it.” I pulled the string out slowly. “Anyway, it must be my grandmother. She was a healer in the war, you know? For some odd reason, they must think I have the same abilities as she does.” I paused. “Did.” I shook my head, pulling back so I could take in the injury. “I always say that, you know? Present tense. Like they haven’t gone over to the Celestial Realm.”

  The last part of the injury was giving me trouble. I had to dab it away with a towel. When that didn’t work, I took my thumb and pressed down on it. Somehow, the pressure of that caused the blood to at least slow down.

  “We don’t even know the Celestial Realm is real,” Toru said.

  Like the jackass he was.

  I yanked on the stitch, and he hissed.

  “Don’t say things like that,” I snipped.

  “You can’t tell me you believe —“

  I set my scissors down once I finished the stitch and glared up at him. If I wasn’t a head and a half shorter than he was, I might have been slightly intimidating. As it was, he returned my stare with a blank, lazy look.

  “Of course I believe,” I said. “You don’t get to come into my home and say such things.” I cocked my head to the side. “And if you truly believe that, issue a divorce. It’s not like he’s looking down on us if the Celestial Realm doesn’t exist, right? No more obligation.”

  Toru looked down at the stitches with a furrowed brow. “Your grandfather didn’t believe in the Celestial Realm either,” he pointed out.

  “My grandfather is in that realm,” I said. I clenched my teeth, hoping he didn’t pick up the fact that my voice was on the precipice of shaking. “So, I’m sure he believes in it now.”

  “Elara…”

  Full name.

  Concerned brow.

  I had to look away. I busied myself with pulling out a bandaid and sticking it over the stitches.

  “Where is he then, Toru?” I asked in a low voice. “If he’s not there, where? Is he just stardust, floating around in the sky? Is he nothing?” I threw my arms out. “Divorce me then.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You know I won’t.”

  “All for some death wish that I still don’t understand,” I snapped.

  Toru was silent, but I knew the look on his face. I knew what I would see if I looked up and I didn’t want to see the sympathy at me being naïve about something.

  “You know,” I said, thrusting a finger in his direction. “Only you have this ability to make me feel so childish about something I believe in.”

  “Elara…”

  I grabbed the kit and padded to my room again.

  “You know what else I believe in?”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I put the kit back and turned around, finally able to look him in the eye. “You, Toru. I may not want you as my husband, but that doesn’t mean I can just deny it. My grandfather mentored you because you were a prodigy. But he put up with you because he cared. It’s the only reason I put up with your blasphemy even now.”

  Toru sighed.

  “It’s okay, though. You’ll see. I’ll have enough faith for the both of us.” I pulled out the silver chain and brought the small, unassuming arrow pendant to my lips. “I’ll get you into the Celestial Realm, old man. I promise.”

  “Whatever you say, wife.”

  I dropped my necklace back under my oversized t-shirt. “How do you feel?”

  “Kind of hungry, actually…”

  “I meant, your injury.”

  “Pretty good.” He twisted his torso.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Won’t you, regardless?”

  I moved towards him. If I was going to read his face after my next question, I had to get closer. The shadows were heavier as the night went on.

  “Were you really sent on just a recon mission?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth, and I already knew what was going to come out was a lie.

  “You know, I’m not a child anymore, right?”

  He made a face as he walked towards the bed to grab his undershirt.

  “You can’t keep lying to me because you think I need protection. I’m twenty.”

  “You do need protection,” he pointed out.

  I snatched the bloodied shirt and the flack jacket and tossed them into my hamper against the wall so he wouldn’t do something as stupid as put those filthy clothes on after I had just cleaned and stitched up his wound.

  “You’re here by yourself —“

  “You’re right next door.”

  “You don’t have magic.”

  “I have a metal bat I practice swinging every morning under my bed,” I said. “I pretend the tennis balls are you, naturally.”

  “And I’m sure you’re formidable against those tennis balls,” he quipped. “Your grandparents made enemies during the war, and after. Or do you forget the Arcane Council was livid when your grandfather turned in their application to be registered as a civilian?”

  “Please, Toru.” I tilted my head to the side, pressing my brows together, widening my eyes. “I just stitched you up. Your blood is on my hands. What was your mission?”

  “Why do you want to know?” he asked. “Is it because you actually care about your husband?”

  “I want to know what you’re up against,” I said. “You’re called in more frequently the last nine months. I haven’t seen you at all.”

  “Miss me, Lar?”

  “Absolutely not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned for you the same way my grandparents were.”

  “You know I can’t say.”

  “So, it wasn’t a Star Mission,” I said flatly.

  He looked away, his only tell that his lie was discovered.

  “If you don’t talk to me, who can you talk to?” I asked.

  “Who says I need to talk to anyone?” Toru asked, and this time, there was a slight growl to his voice, like he didn’t want to have this discussion again. And that was fair, because this wasn’t the first time we have had this conversation and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  “You should. You were fourteen when you went to war. I can’t even imagine the horrors you’ve seen, what you continue to see.” I took his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “I wish you would trust me.”

  I made to let go of his hand but his fingers wrapped around mine and he stopped me from pulling away.

  “I don’t think you realize how much I trust you,” he said.