• C.A. Lightfoot

Excerpt from (Faithless) Guardian

Updated: Jul 28

Read on for more:


The young man jumped a solid foot in the air, which was pretty good distance from his knees. Dover stepped back, throwing her hands up in a familiar gesture to indicate surrender. Liam had been a little twitchy since his encounter with possession back in his teens. It happened to be Dover who was Called to pull the higher demon out of the boy, while his ineffectual parents encouraged the doctors to push more Haldol. The moment his blue eyes cleared, free from demonic chains, Liam had looked to Dover with a sort of boyish hero worship.

He would miss her when she went home.

“Thank God.” Liam choked as he clambered to standing. Almost immediately, he wrapped Dover into a bone-breaking hug. “I was ok handling one, but when his friend showed up, shit got real.”

Dover chuckled, rolling her shoulders as she tried to burn the poison in her system off. She managed to pat her Charge on the back, staining his shirt with blood that still flowed from the wounds on her neck and arms. She hissed as she stepped back, the poison lacing those wounds making her drowsy.

“Hey.” Liam said, his kind voice filled with concern. “Hey, sit down a sec.”

Unable to fight the urge to comply, Dover sat heavily on the floor, her back sliding against the wall. Liam crouched in front of her, those familiar eyes scanning her injuries with worry creasing his brow.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” Dover nodded, focusing her gaze on her Charge.

Liam had grown since they first met, topping out at over six feet tall with a stature that would lovingly be called ‘husky’. His kind, round face almost always had a smile on it, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as it escaped the ponytail holder clasping it at his nape. He had been the first of her Charges and that accounted for the deep, unrelenting bond between the two of them.

“How did this happen?” Dover asked weakly as her body strove to heal. “I had Embry Ward the place himself.”

“I don’t know, Dove.” Liam said with a sigh. “But something tells me they weren’t here for me. They weren’t even interested in me.”

Frowning, Dover nodded. “Yeah. They knew my name.”

Liam’s eyes widened, his hand reaching out to grasp hers, even though blood and ichor stained her fingers.

“I figured.” He indicated to the wall over her head, forcing Dover to look above her.

A few feet over her head, the wall boasted an elegant script written in what looked like the blood of demons.

Dover Ellis. It read in a looping, beautiful hand. We need to talk.


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