Blaise sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth. “Never, ever … ever bring his mother into things. That’s just a good way to get your ass kicked, as he tends to madly lash out whenever you mention she-who-should-never-be-named.”
Falcyn gave the demon a wry grin. “You should listen to my brother, demon. At least I know my mother’s name. Which is more than you do.” He swept a grimace over Kessar. “And if you know that much about me, then you know who and what fathered me. So if I were you, I’d run before I decide to pull the wings off you for fun and pin you to a wall somewhere to throw darts at whenever I’m drunk.”
Unperturbed, Kessar examined his claws. “Fine. I take it you’ve no interest in learning where they sent your sister?”
A slow, insidious smile spread over Falcyn’s face. “Oh, I’ll find her. As soon as I eat your brains and absorb the information.”
Before Urian knew what he intended, Falcyn was on Kessar, tearing at his flesh. With an unholy growl, he snatched the demon’s head back and would have ripped out his throat had Kessar not vanished.
Blood dripped from Falcyn’s hands and chin as he sneered up at the dismal sky. “What? Was it something I said? Come back here, you pussy bastard! What kind of demon runs like a bitch over a small bite?”
Urian crossed his arms over his chest as he met Medea’s shocked stare. “And now you know why I had my reservations about seeking out our not-so-friendly dragon for conversation. You just can’t take him out in public. Or private either.”
Falcyn licked the blood from his fingers.
Medea curled her lips in distaste. “They have these things called napkins, you know? Been around for thousands of years now. You should try one.”
Wiping the blood from his lips with his knuckle, Falcyn grinned at her. “A squeamish Daimon? Seriously? Besides, I like the taste of my enemy’s blood. It soothes me. Blood of my friends is even better, but they tend to get a little testy whenever I partake of my favorite delicacy.”
Blaise sighed. “Really, we tried home training. He failed miserably. But he’s awesome when you need someone killed and you don’t have a place to hide a body. He eats all traces of it. Better than a pet Charonte demon.”
With one last lick to his middle finger, Falcyn turned back to Blaise. “Can you transform?”
“Haven’t tried. Why?”
“I can’t.”
Blaise looked sick to his stomach at that realization. After a second, he shook his head. “Why can’t we turn?”
“That would be the disturbing question of the moment, wouldn’t it?”
Urian laughed nervously. “How do we get back?”
“There’s always a portal of some kind.” Falcyn turned a slow, small circle as he surveyed the land around them. “We just have to figure out where it is and what it looks like. You know … fun shit that, always.”
“Yeah. Lots of fun.” Urian’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “And avoid stray magick and demons.”
“And everything else,” Medea added.
“Exactly what she said,” Falcyn muttered under his breath.
“So glad I got up this morning.” Blaise sighed heavily. “Hell, I even bathed.”
Falcyn passed a smug sneer at him. “So glad I’m stuck here with all of you. Bitching and moaning.”
“Blaise?” Medea whispered suddenly.
“Yeah … I feel it.”
Medea’s dark eyes met his. “What is it?”
“Not sure.” Falcyn saw nothing around them.
Suddenly, Urian heard it. A mere wisp of breath. So low as to be virtually inaudible.
With lightning reflexes honed by battle, Falcyn reached out and grabbed their pursuer.
“I mean you no harm!” The sound of a woman’s voice shocked him.
Falcyn tightened his grip on what felt like a throat. “Show yourself.”
She materialized in his grip. Large lavender eyes swallowed a face that appeared more girl than woman, and yet the fullness of her leather-wrapped body said that she was well into her twenties. Physically, anyway.
“What are you?”
She rubbed at his wrist to remind him that his death grip was cutting off her ability to speak. Another action that said she was older than a frightened teen.
Falcyn relaxed his hold, but not enough to allow her to escape.
“I’m Brogan.”
“Didn’t ask your name. Don’t really care. I asked what you are.”
“Cursed. Exiled and damned. Please, let me go and I can help you.”
She was hedging and Urian didn’t like it. Creatures who played games usually had something to hide.
“Why?” Falcyn demanded.
“Why should you let me go? So that I can breathe.”
Falcyn ground his teeth. “No, why should we trust you to help us?”
“Because I want out of here more than anything, but I lack the powers to break the seal or bargain for freedom. If you take me with you, I’ll show you where a portal is.”
Still suspicious, he released her. “And again, I ask what you are.”
“A kerling Deathseer.”
Falcyn conjured up a ball of fire and held it so that she knew her own death was imminent. “Deathseer or seeker?”
Urian agreed with that question, as there was a big difference between them. A seer saw death. A seeker caused it.
Holding her hands up, she stepped back from him. “Seer,” she said quickly, letting him know that she got the less-than-veiled threat in his actions. “Though ofttimes the Black Crom uses me to find his victims.”
“And why is that?”
“I was sold to him for such.”
Falcyn moved to kill her, but Blaise caught his arm.
“Don’t hurt her.”
Aghast, he stared at him. “Are you out of your mandrake mind?”
Blaise snorted. “All the time. But not about this.” He held his hand out to the petite brunette. “Come, Brogan. I won’t let him harm you.”
Letting the fire in his hand die out, he scowled at Blaise. “Can you see her at all?”
Blaise shook his head. “I can only hear her voice. Why?”
Because she was exquisitely beautiful. Her long dark brown hair that had escaped her tight braids made perfect spirals around her elvish features and pointed ears. Enchanting features the fey often used to lure others to their doom. And that included her tight brown leather pants and corset that were covered by a flimsy green robe, and the fey stone necklace and diadem she wore.
But if Blaise couldn’t see it, then it wasn’t a trap for him.
“Why are you attracted to her?” Falcyn asked.
“Didn’t say I was. I only hear the truth in her voice. She’s not lying to us. So I think we should help her.”
“And no good deed goes unpunished. You help her and you’re likely to pay for it. In the worst way imaginable and at the worst possible time.”
Blaise sighed heavily at Falcyn’s mistrust, which had come from a lifetime of betrayal. “What I love most about you, Fal. Your never-ending optimism. It bowls me over.”
For once, Urian was on Falcyn’s side. He wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss that sage advice. If he were Blaise, he’d be listening a little more closely.
Tucking down her gossamer wings so that they couldn’t be seen, Brogan retrieved her knapsack. As she started past Falcyn, he stopped her. “You harm him … or cause him to be harmed in any way—even a hangnail—and I will make sure you die in screaming agony.”
Her eyes widened at his threat. “I see no death for him. You’ve no cause to threaten me on his behalf.”
As she moved to walk beside Blaise, Medea dropped back to Falcyn’s side. “What’s a kerling?”
“A conjuring witch.”
“That why you asked if she sought death?”
He nodded. “Kerlings can be a handful.”
“Known many?”
“No, but I’ve killed my fair share.”
Brogan gasped and glanced over her shoulder at Falcyn.
With a fake smile, he waved at her.
She let out a squeak and sidled closer to Blaise, who cast a fierce grimace in his direction. “What did you do?”
“I smiled.”
“Ah, that explains it, then. It’s such an unnatural act for you that you look like some questing beast whenever you try.”
Falcyn screwed his face up as Blaise allowed the kerling to lead them.
They walked on while Urian listened to them bantering and tried to figure out if there was any truth to Xyn being alive. Or was it an elaborate lie by Kessar?
Wouldn’t be the first time the demon had done such treachery. And a person could go mad thinking about it.