Release (The Protector Book 3) Read Online Free

him, they fear the Dark Brothers.”
    “Everything they fear is hearsay,” Eric said. “Rumors that have been spread about the Underworld for generations. It’s a game of telephone. What started as a common scare tactic has turned into a phobia among your kind. Just like the Dark Brothers are not to be trusted, neither are the stories that precede them.”
    “You underestimate their power. That is foolish and it will get you killed.” Grams’s pale gaze narrowed. “I won’t stand beside a fool.”
    “Your fear is based on rumors. I won’t cower to bedtime stories told to scare little demonlings. And save your threats, old woman. What’s left of your power is better suited to finding the whereabouts of these almighty demons. If you and your little coven can put your powers to use and find them, I’ll take care of the rest.”
    Grams stared up at Eric and slowly rose from her chair. “Don’t take that tone with me, boy. Your methods will get you and your people killed, along with everyone else in this room.”
    “I think old age is starting to take its toll on you. I’ve been running my crew the same way for twenty years and we’re still standing. So why don’t you sit down before you break a hip?”
    The blue of Grams’s eyes faded and a solid white took over them. A tingle of magic spiraled down my spine and as power filled the room, a white glow formed around her frail hands.
    “Your little tricks won’t work on me, you old skin bag,” Eric said.
    “Is that so?” Grams’s voice was low, just above a whisper. The grayish tone to her skin began to fade and it started to turn milky white. Her power rode the air, cascading through the room before it focused on Eric.
    Eric’s fist slammed against the table and he hunched over gasping for air. Gray veins spread across his face, growing thicker with each passing moment. His skin began to pale and his eyes glazed over. “What is this?” he choked out.
    “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps my old age is making me appear uneducated in the power of demons. I mean, I’m just an old skin bag. What do I know?”
    “Grams, what are you doing?” Marcus asked, rising cautiously from his chair.
    All the creases in Grams wrinkly skin began to smooth. Her gray eyebrows darkened, and the broken, unruly white of her hair shifted. The rollers in her hair fell to the ground as the color changed to a light brown, her unhealthy strands of hair smoothing and gaining a glossy appearance. The lines around her eyes flattened and the sagging skin beneath her pale lids tightened.
    The hairs on my neck rose as a swirl of white magic flashed between both Eric and Grams, a line of power connecting them.
    All the dark hair of Eric’s beard faded and his greasy ponytail dried, appearing gray and frail. A thick streak of his hair lost its pigment, turning completely white.
    “Or perhaps you should listen to me,” Grams said. “If an old lady can make you helpless and weak, what do you think the Brothers will do to you?”
    “Grams, you’re kill—killing him,” Willy said.
    Everyone stood from their chairs and backed away. The magic was pouring off her and Eric crumpled to the floor.
    “Gr—Grams!” Willy shouted.
    The white streak in Eric’s black hair was bright, and his dark scraggly beard was peppered with shades of gray. The pronounced veins that had spread across his face shrunk, leaving remnants of thin blue lines beneath his skin.
    The bright blue of Gram’s eyes returned as the magic washed away. She shook her head and long brown locks swayed behind her. “Bedtime stories, huh?” She sighed and moved back to her seat.
    Grams, who now looked a decade younger, sat calmly in her chair and crossed her smooth, unblemished legs. Eric’s scarred hands gripped the edge of the table and he struggled to pull himself up. Blue veins rippled beneath his skin and his knees creaked as he rose from the floor.
    “This place is a joke,” Eric said, a wheezing breath coming