Damn villains. Unlike her, they didn't have a code they followed. Mannerless pigs.
Urian cursed. "Well, this wasn't how I saw these events unfolding."
Falcyn snorted at his sarcasm. "I knew better than to get involved with Daimons and Dark-Hunters. What I get for coming out of my hole."
With a grimace, Medea lopped the head off her Adoni opponent, then turned toward Falcyn before she engaged another enemy and sought to end him, too. "Stop whining, dragonfly! Why don't you shift and set fire to them? Make this a little easier on us? Eh?"
"Simple spatial awareness. If either Blaise or I change right now, we'd kill the lot of you, as we'd take up this entire room and you'd be crushed beneath us. Still want me to shift, love?"
Oh. Medea flashed him a grin as she kicked her opponent back. "Please, don't."
"Thought you might feel that way."
Just as they finished off their Adoni and began to make sure there weren't more, the door flew open.
They turned as one solid group to face this new onslaught.
As tall as Falcyn, the newcomer was swathed in the gold and green armor of an Adoni guard. A thick leather hood covered his head. Muscled and fierce, he stood with the cocksure stance of a warrior who knew how to fight to the bitter end.
Yet he didn't draw his sword.
Rather, he held his hands out to his sides as if amused by them and their predicament.
Medea braced herself for a psychic attack. Or one born of magick. That was what someone like this usually went for.
Instead, laughter greeted them. "Bet if I sneezed right now, I'd send the lot of you jumping straight to the ceiling like a glaring of cats."
Falcyn growled deep in his throat. "Varian, you worthless bastard! Get in here. Shadow's down."
The humor died instantly while the man shut the door, then lowered his hood. Medea arched a brow at his unexpected handsomeness as he brushed past her with a predator's lope to check on their fallen friend. Though, being Adoni, his degree of superior gorgeousness shouldn't have surprised her. Yet even by their stellar standards, the black-haired fey was exceptionally formed. With pointed ears and sharp, perfect features, he was absolutely exquisite--the pinnacle of masculine perfection.
"What happened?" Varian knelt by Shadow's side.
Falcyn joined him there to help tend Shadow. "We were cornered by dire wolves."
"Dire wolves or gwyllgi?"
"Gwyllgi," Blaise answered, making her wonder how the mandrake knew the difference.
Varian cursed. "Was the Crom with them?"
Blaise nodded without further comment.
Growling low in his throat in a manner eerily similar to the one Falcyn had done on his arrival, Varian used his powers to strip Shadow's leather armor away. Then he lifted the linen shirt to inspect the damage.
Medea cringed at the sight of the festering wound and all the other deep, ridged scars that marred Shadow's cut and ripped abdomen and chest. That armor had hidden quite an impeccable body. For a creature who inhabited a nether realm, he spent a great deal of time in the gym with weights.
Or he worked out by bench-pressing gargoyles.
Again, Varian cursed--this time, more lewdly. "Damn, Shade. Can't you ever do anything halfway once in a while? No, you don't get a little wounded. You've got to get practically gutted."
Falcyn sat back on his heels. "If you hold him, I can heal him."
Varian stopped Falcyn. "If you're planning to tap what I think you are, don't. Morgen will feel it and jump all over you the minute you try." He worked to stop Shadow's bleeding. "I've got this. You have a mission to complete. But I should warn you..."
Falcyn's gut knotted. He knew the Grail Knight's words before Varian spoke them.
"Narishka has Maddor, and he's furious." Varian's gaze went to Blaise before he met Falcyn's stare. "I also know what I doubt you want made public."
Yeah, that gave Falcyn's ulcer a baby and a friend to chew on.
Varian sighed heavily. "I didn't want you to walk in there until you had all the facts. Narishka told Maddor everything about his past and parents. And I do mean e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g." He pulled the key from Shadow and handed it to Falcyn. "There's a stairwell at the end of the hallway that will take you down to the catacombs. Be careful. They're expecting all of you to come here and be stupid."
"Then far be it from us to disappoint them." Falcyn saluted him with the key. "Thanks." He rose as dread continued to gnaw his confidence and erode his sense of purpose. As Varian had noted, this was a fool's errand. Yet one look at Blaise and he knew they had to see it through. "Lead the way."
Hesitating, Blaise took Brogan's hand. "Is Shadow going to be all right?"
She cocked her head as a faraway look darkened her eyes. "Aye. I don't see his death nearby. And it's definitely not imminent."
Falcyn's hackles raised at a note she had buried in her voice. "What aren't you saying?"
She pressed her hand to her forehead. "I see death all around me, all the time. In everyone. In everything. To me, the world isn't a beautiful place. It's a graveyard, filled with walking corpses. So when I'm asked to look more closely at the ghouls who haunt me, it feels like it steals a part of my soul." She drew a ragged breath. "That was all I was saying."
Medea moved to stand by her side. "I'm sorry, Brogan. Sadly, there are too many things in life that feel that way."
Brogan reached out and touched Medea's hand. With a sad smile, she turned it over and pointed to the lines on the side of Medea's palm. "Did you know you'll have four more children to love and hold?"
Medea's features turned as pale as her hair. "Pardon?"
Brogan opened Medea's palm and, using her fingernail, traced the lines that bisected her skin. "Your heart is broken, but healing. And while you'll never forget what's happened to you, you can and will move past it. Brave in all things. That's you, Medea. Your scars don't define you. They are merely silent testimony to your resilience and inner beauty."
Medea squeezed her hand. "I'm not the one who's beautiful, Brogan. You are. I don't understand how you can be so gentle after everything you've gone through. I envy you that. You're like a fine steak that's been tenderized while I'm steel that's been tempered."
A sad smile tugged at the edges of her lips. "Don't. I would give anything to be the fighter you are, and to have the same sharp edge to me. But alas, I've been worn down too far by the blows I've taken. There's nothing left anymore except a memory of the girl I once was and the woman I used to hope I'd be." She took a ragged breath. "That is the bite, isn't it? That day when we wake to remember what our future once was and can never be."
Medea tightened her hand against Brogan's. "Never, ever beat yourself up, love. Not when there are so many others willing to do it for you. See the gentle beauty that you are. Not the sharpened dagger I've become."
Falcyn moved so that he could lean down to whisper in Medea's ear. "And I think you're perfect just the way you are. There is nothing about you I'd change."
Those words melted her. Worse, they brought tears to her eyes, as they were the sweetest thing anyone had said to her in so long, she couldn't remember ever hearing anything more precious.
So used to anger as her constant state of being, she wasn't sure how to deal with these tender emotions Falcyn touched so effortlessly.
Damn him for it!
And damn her heart for letting him in against her wishes.
She didn't want to care about anyone. But when he looked at her like that ... When he spoke in that rich, deep timbre that sent shivers over her ...
How could she resist him?
You can't lose someone you love again.
The thought of having more children and a spouse ...
That was what gave a grown Daimon nightmares. At least in her case. Medea could imagine no worse horror. No worse tragedy than to spend every day in terror of losing it all again.
No. She wouldn't do it.
She couldn't do it.
F
"What did you say to her?" Urian asked.
"Nothing that should warrant that reaction."
Blaise scoffed. "I don't know. Frightening women and small children, and making grown men piss their pants, is kind of your specialty, brother."
Falcyn ground his teeth. "It's a good thing I like you." And with that, he went after Medea, who was quickly heading toward the fey court.
"Honey, you might want to slow it down before you burst headlong into Adoni central. You might make their day, but it'd probably ruin yours.... Then again, knowing you, it might make you smile. Provided they don't take you by surprise."
That at least succeeded in making her slow her hell-bent pace. "What?"
He nodded, then jerked his chin in the direction she'd been headed. "That's where the Circle parties down. Bad idea for us to break in on them. Unless you want roasted Adoni for dinner. That I can arrange."
She snorted. "You're not funny."
Nearing her side, Falcyn cupped her face in his hands as he sought to comfort her. "So what was that about, anyway?"
"What?"
"Your running off in the middle of our moment. What's going on?"
Her eyes darkened with so much torment that it hit him like a fist to his gut. He couldn't stand seeing her in pain. "Brogan may see death, but the future she described for me is more than I could cope with. It terrified me."
The magnitude of her confiding in him wasn't lost on him. He understood exactly how rare this was, and he didn't take it for granted.
Floored and humbled by it, he stroked her cheek before he smiled at her and sought to lighten her mood. "Yeah, domestic hell is something I've done my best to avoid. It's that whole suburban lifestyle. Little ranch house. White minivan. Block parties and lawn mowers." He shuddered. "I'd be funneling Drano within a weekend."
That succeeded in easing her pain. "I don't know. You'd be cute in an apron."
He grinned even wider. "What can I say? I might be able to make mom jeans look sexy."
She burst into laughter. But only for a moment before the sadness returned to her dark eyes. "Why can't I be normal, Falcyn? Why did I have to be born so cursed?"
His heart breaking for her, he pulled her against his chest and held her close. "Trust me, we all feel that way. Many times I think either the Fates have a major grudge on me, or I'm just their favorite whipping boy and punch line."
"Exactly."
Kissing her forehead, he squeezed her. "C'mon. We need to get out of here before we're seen."
Medea allowed him to take her hand so that he could lead her back to the others. But with every step they took, she couldn't stop the overwhelming fear that weakened her in a way she hated. Worse was the premonition that something bad was about to happen.
Something more than Shadow's injuries.
A lot worse.
All right, Chicken Little. Stop waiting for the other shoe. Breathe and let it go.
She smiled at the memory of Davyn's favorite thing to say to her whenever she started with her doom-and-gloom scenarios. He said it so much that he'd even begun to call her Chicken Little as a nickname.
Only Davyn could get away with that without her murdering him for it.
Oh shit, I am attached to someone.
She loved that crotchety little Daimon. He was her family. And she would be devastated if anything happened to him. It was why she'd come out on this quest and strong-armed Urian into this venture.
Davyn wasn't just her right hand, he was her best friend. The only confidant she had. Loyal to a fault, he was the least judgmental and easiest to get along with person she'd ever met. Nothing got him down.
Not even this plague.
Well, better me than you, right? That was how he viewed the world.
And while she had the blood of thousands on her hands, it was only the death of a tiny handful that haunted her. Davyn would be one of them, should he ever fall.
No, he wouldn't haunt her.
Davyn would destroy her. She couldn't stand the thought of losing him, too. No matter what, she had to save him.
With that thought foremost in her mind, she glanced up at Falcyn while he walked. "So how do you use your dragonstone?"
He flashed an annoying grin at her. "With great caution. It's a deadly thing when used by a non-dragon. It's moody and irritable."
"Like me?"
"Didn't say that." His eyes glowed at her.
"Yeah, you did. I heard your voice in your own head. Spoke so loud, I thought it was my own inner voice screeching."
He snorted. "Nice trick, Savitar."
She fell silent as they drew near their friends. Though that seemed a peculiar word to her. Urian was her brother and she wasn't sure why she considered Blaise, Brogan, and Brandor that way when it wasn't in her nature to do so. Trust had never come easy to her. Yet there was no denying the innate fondness she had for them. For no known reason.
Strange, indeed, for someone who trusted no one. Not even her own parents. While she loved her mother dearly, she wasn't blind to Zephyra's flaws. End of the day, her mother was a vicious survivor who wouldn't hesitate to kill or torture to get what she wanted. And while Medea didn't think her mother could turn on her, she'd seen her mother do things that made her never want to put her mother to the hazard for fear of learning a harsh, bitter truth.
Same for her father. Even though Stryker was a bit more moderate--"bit" being an interesting word in this scenario. But at least her father had a screwed-up sense of honor that her mother lacked.
Her mother was a firm believer in kill them all and the gods will sort them later. And if you could torture information out of them first, all the better.
Yeah, sympathy and empathy weren't on her mother's list of virtues. Therefore, Medea didn't delude herself into thinking that her mother would ever be above selling her out for the right price.
And that terrified her most of all.
Trying not to think about it, Medea followed the others down a narrow, winding tower. As they continued on, it began to feel as if they were descending into hell itself. It kept getting colder, darker.
More sinister.
And that, too, made her wonder if and when they'd betray her. What price these strangers she dared to call friend would put on her life.
"Where does this lead?" Medea asked.
"Morgen's garden." Blaise's tone was flat and emotionless in the dim light.
"I don't understand. A garden underground?" No sooner had she finished the question than they slowed down.
Falcyn used his dragonfyre in his hand as a torch so that they could see what was around them.
The moment he raised his arm over his head and the light chased away the heavier shadows, she gasped. The garden was massive and lined with giant dragon statues that went on in an endless, eerie display.
In every direction.
"Holy shit," she breathed.
Falcyn nodded. "Holy shit, indeed. The light fog down here is from their breath. At least by that we know they're still alive even if they are frozen by Merlin's spell."
"I don't understand. If they're frozen, how can they breathe fog?"
Though he was blind in his human form, Blaise glanced toward Brogan and then Medea before he answered. "The gas we exhale. It causes that. Even when we're locked in by magick. Not sure why. Just a peculiar by-product."
Okay, then. Sometimes there was no rhyme or reason to magick. She knew that better than anyone.
Of course, ultimately there was rhyme and reason, it just wasn't readily apparent.
"Do we have to free them all?" she asked.
Falcyn headed for the largest beast over on his right. "It's the safest thing to do. That way, Morgen won't have any to rouse and use against us."
Blaise left Brogan's side as he felt his way through the darkness. "I'm not sure how to use my father's ring to awaken them. Do you know?"
Falcyn reached out to take it from him.
Just as their fingers brushed, the dragon nearest them opened its eyes and growled.
15
Falcyn pulled back, ready for war, as the beast by his side rose to do battle. He stepped away from Medea, intending to change into his own dragon body to fight.
Blaise took his arm and fisted his hand in his sleeve to stop him. "Don't! That's Maddor."
Those words froze him to the spot. His heart started racing at the sight of the largest dragon.
This was his son. Close enough to touch.
To hold.
The one creature he'd always wanted to meet.
And he was standing beside his grandson, who continued to hold on to him. For the first time in his life, he was with his children. Both of them. The magnitude of the moment overwhelmed him as he struggled with emotions he couldn't even begin to define. Twisted pain. Heartache.
Inexplicable joy and pride.
Unbelievable love.
These were his boys. His own flesh and blood ...
Feelings slammed into him and left him reeling until the entire lot of them settled down into a rage so profound that it was all he could do not to go straight back to Sanctuary and gut Max for what he'd done.
For what he'd unknowingly cost his children.
And yet--
"Maddor..." The name came out in an anguished breath as he stepped forward, wanting to embrace him.
Urian splayed his hand against Falcyn's chest to stop him from approaching his child. "They have him pinned." He jerked his chin toward the chain that held Maddor in place. "I'm betting if you free the dragons, it'll kill him."
It took Falcyn a moment to realize that Urian was right. The chain ran straight into Maddor's chest and no doubt through his heart. That was the kind of cruelty Narishka and Morgen specialized in.
Damn the bitches for it.
And that wasn't all. They had him muzzled, too.
That combination of cruelty made Maddor insane. Falcyn couldn't blame him in the least. No dragon did well in captivity. Not even a mandrake. They were meant to roam free, not be bound in such a manner.
Stepping past Urian, Falcyn reached to touch his son's scales. "Maddor, calm yourself. We're here to help."
With a fiery hiss, Maddor lunged at him so that Falcyn couldn't make contact. Fuck you!
There was no missing that angry voice in Falcyn's head. Maddor lashed at Blaise with his tail.
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