So glad I don’t have one of those.
Walking over to them, Urian gave them a kiss and a hug before he left. His nieces and nephews were the best parts of his brothers. They reminded him why he loved his siblings, without the repugnant mouths that made him want to knock them through walls. He’d never understand what it was about his siblings that made them so repellent at times. Why couldn’t they keep their opinions and fists to themselves?
Their children were precious. Perhaps that would change one day. But so far, he adored them.
He prayed it was always so.
Urian drew his cloak tighter as he headed down the street.
Now to wreak mayhem on his twin.
It didn’t take him long to reach the small cottage Paris shared with Davyn. Because Davyn hadn’t come from the privileged background Paris had, he didn’t feel comfortable in their father’s larger, more opulent dwelling. And servants made him downright nervous. To Urian’s eternal shock and surprise, Paris had actually managed to care enough about another person that he’d given up being pampered and catered to so that he could move in with Davyn and live an extremely modest lifestyle. It still screwed with his head. Altruism was a foreign concept for any of his hedonistic brothers.
Yet Paris was the one brother he had who never cheated on his partner. It said a lot about both of them that they were so committed.
Urian opened the door without knocking. “Paris! Davyn!” He shouted only because he didn’t want to walk in on an awkward scene. One thing about his brothers—none of them were particularly circumspect.
Not that he needed to have bothered.
The cottage was empty.
Fine. Little shit must be in the main hall still, bragging over his exploits and battle skills. That was good, then. He could use an audience to witness the beating he planned to give his brother.
With his temper mounting, Urian headed for it.
Sure enough, he found the two of them in the circle of Daimons and Apollites, with Paris bragging as he’d expected. And demonstrating some of his “techniques.”
Urian’s gaze narrowed. Growling deep in his throat, he ran forward. The crowd parted as he went straight for Paris. His brother turned. He caught Paris about the waist and raised him up so that he could body-slam him to the ground.
“What the Tartarus, Urian!” Paris punched at his throat.
Urian was too furious to care as he returned the blows with his own counterstrikes.
Paris tried to flip him over his head. Urian wasn’t having any of it. All he wanted was his brother’s blood.
“You lying sack of scytel!” His need for vengeance mixed with his bloodlust. And it drove him to a new level of anger that his own twin had fed him to their father.
One moment they were slugging it out on the floor.
The next they were hanging in the air.
“What is this madness that has possessed you?” their father demanded, hands on hips where he watched from below.
Urian squirmed in an effort to break his hold. “Ananke and Lyssa!”
His father gave him a droll grimace that said he didn’t appreciate Urian’s blaming his outburst on the goddesses of compulsion and rage.
“You’re not funny, pido! And I’m not amused. This is twice tonight that you’ve sorely tried my patience. Were I you, I wouldn’t press me for a third.”
Urian had to force himself not to reply to something that would only get him beaten again. But it was hard when sarcasm was his native tongue. And salty barbs were his most favored nutrient.
Worse, with his elevated acute Apollite senses, he could actually hear his father grinding his fangs.
Their father cast his sneer around every Daimon in the room and saved the worst of his censuring for Paris and Urian. “Now will one of you please, in the name of Apollymi, explain this outburst to me?”
“Urian started it, Solren.”
His father let out a long, exasperated breath. “Am I insane or is that not the most uttered phrase by my sons?”
Urian scoffed. “What can I say, Solren? I am the grandson of Apollo. I spread sunshine in my wake everywhere I go.”
With a deeply vexed growl, his father pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose as if trying to suppress a massive headache. “By the gods, boy … Forget Lyssa and Ananke. It’s Koros you make sacrifices to, and serve with your every breath. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were the god of insolence incarnate. Are we sure Hybris didn’t swap you out at birth with my real and true son?”
“Perhaps she did. It would explain so much.” Damn it, Uri. Keep your mouth shut! He didn’t know why he had such a hard time riding herd on his tongue.
It was a reckless beast, and traitorous to boot. Worse even than his brothers when it came to getting him into trouble. And even less help when it came to getting him out of it.
If he was smart, he’d cut the thing out before it did any worse damage.
And the look on his father’s face said he was about one syllable away from losing a tooth or vital organ.
“Paris … I think you should take Davyn and retire for the coming day. You’ve both had a long night. No doubt you can use the rest.” He lowered him to the ground.
“Aye, Solren.” He saluted their father, gathered Davyn, and left.
Irritated, Urian let out a deep breath and boldly folded his arms over his chest, as if bored by it all.
His father shook his head slowly. He dropped Urian without warning.
Instead of sprawling, Urian caught himself with his powers and landed in a predator’s crouch. That caused an audible gasp to go through the crowd around him and his father’s jaw fell open.
Head up and alert, in a perfect pose, Urian rose to his feet and swept a challenging stare around the room.
Bring it on, bitches.
All of them underestimated him. They always had. Because of his age, they tended to forget that he was the son of a demigod and a priestess. So while his mother was human, she’d been gifted with her own set of powers by Apollo. For whatever reason, Urian seemed to have inherited more of those abilities than any of his brothers.
So be it.
As his father had noted, he was an insolent bastard who’d suckled venom from the teats of Hybris and the Neikea and had been raised here in this Stygian pit on the knee of Apollymi with demons for friends.
Really? What had he expected? A well-adjusted, happy child? That ship hadn’t just sailed, it’d sunk in the harbor, never to be seen again.
“What am I to do with you?”
Urian shrugged. “Take me out and leave me for the dawn?”
“Don’t tempt me.” A tic started in his jaw.
Of all my sons, you are my greatest pride and the one who scares me most. I pray whatever it is that drives you to such courage and madness doesn’t one day drive you to suicidal stupidity.
Urian scowled as he heard his father’s voice in his head. “Pardon?”
“What?”
He glanced about the room, unsure if he’d heard what he thought he had. “I … I thought you said something.”
“I’m only debating a punishment that might actually work on you, as I have yet to find anything that curbs your stubborn will.” His father grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked him into his arms. He crushed him against his chest in an excruciating embrace. “Don’t make me have to mourn you, you worthless son of a bitch.” He growled those harsh words in a whisper in Urian’s ear so that no one else could hear them. But it wasn’t the words Urian heard. It was the emotion beneath them that he felt.
His father loved him. Just as he loved all his sons.