“Not true!” Blaise stood and took a defensive position. “I came out alive a few years back when I was here.”
Falcyn made a rude noise at the reminder of the mandrake’s less-than-stellar adventure.
Medea rose and brushed herself off. “Did you?”
“Yeah. Me and Varian. Merewyn, too.”
His anger rising, Falcyn went to the mandrake, dreading an answer to a question no one was asking. “But why are we here now, Blaise? How did we get here?”
Blaise quirked a sarcastic smirk that really tested Falcyn’s patience and restraint. “Did you sleep through the part where we stepped into a magick portal and were sucked through a vortex?”
“Don’t make me beat you with my shoe.”
“Well, I’m just wondering. ’Cause you asked. I mean, you were there, were you not? You didn’t miss that rather large, ghastly light we stepped into, did you?”
“Yeah, but I have a head injury, right now. Maybe a concussion. Thinking some kind of serious brain damage. Definitely trauma of some sort. And a migraine the size of you.”
Urian broke off Falcyn’s tirade by jerking on his sleeve to get his attention.
Even more irritated, Falcyn barely kept himself from slugging him. But there was something in the man’s eyes that stayed his reaction.
Curious, he followed Urian’s line of sight and turned his head to where Urian was staring at something over Falcyn’s left shoulder.
The moment his gaze focused on Brogan and the man who’d materialized by her side, he scowled. “Who’s that?”
“Don’t know, but she seems to know him.”
By the look on Blaise’s face, he did, too.
And they weren’t friends.
Falcyn narrowed his gaze on him. “Blaise?”
A tic started in his jaw. “I know that essence when I feel it. It’s Brevalaer. Morgen’s pet whore.”
6
Brogan hissed at Blaise. “His name is Brandor! Not Brevalaer! And you will not disrespect him again in my presence by using such a fey insult for him! Do you understand me?”
Falcyn’s jaw went slack at her unexpected outburst.
Okay, then …
Nice fit from our new companion.
In a complete huff, Brogan embraced the tall, dark Adoni male. Eyes wide, Medea met Blaise’s equally shocked expression. While he couldn’t see her current actions, he’d definitely heard her verbal explosion.
A tic started in the mandrake’s jaw. “Are they kissing?”
Stunned by the amount of jealousy betrayed in that single question, Medea screwed her face up. “No, but she is hugging him like she hasn’t seen him in a really, really long time.”
Falcyn cocked his head. “Does kissing his cheek count?”
Medea popped him on the stomach as Blaise’s expression turned into one of extreme pain. “That’s mean! Don’t torture the poor mandrake!”
With a fierce grimace, Falcyn and Urian stepped around her to approach Brogan and Brandor with those predator gaits she knew so well. “What’s going on here?”
Medea stayed back to cover them.
Just in case. As she’d quickly learned that when hanging out with these two, literally anything was possible.
Brandor, who was the same height as Falcyn, put himself between Brogan and them. Even though his clothes were ragged and it was obvious he hadn’t been living well, he kept one arm on Brogan as if to protect her while he braced his body to confront Falcyn. Medea would give him bonus points for that. Spoke well of him that he was concerned for Brogan’s welfare.
Still, she reserved judgment.
Even assholes could have consciences from time to time.
Extremely tall and handsome, he had the same chiseled striking features that marked all Adoni. Of course a lot of that had to do with the fact that if any child was deemed “unfit” their mothers abandoned them to die. Or dumped them in the human world to fend for themselves with no knowledge of their otherworldly ties.
Yeah, the fey and demons had a lot in common.
She could almost feel bad for the guy even if he was gorgeous, with his long, wavy black hair and hazel eyes so green they all but glowed with an unholy fire.
By his predatorial stance, it was obvious he knew how to fight and wasn’t afraid to bleed.
But as Medea shifted her gaze from him to Brogan and back again, she realized that their features were extremely similar. Not just because they were both fey and both had pointed ears …
“I had Brogan bring you here so that I could speak with you.”
The look on Falcyn’s face said that if he’d still possessed his dragon’s fyre Brandor would have been incinerated on the spot. “Excuse me?”
Brandor tensed, watching them for any hint of a coming attack. “I know you don’t trust me. You’ve no reason to, but Blaise can tell you that I’ve been privy to Morgen’s most secured council for years.”
“True, and why are you here and not buried in some part of her body, where you normally live?” Blaise all but growled those words.
Anger sparked in Brandor’s eyes, but he restrained it admirably. “I was caught trying to smuggle a portal key to my sister. Morgen gave me no chance to explain before I was banished here in one of her more stellar rage-fits.”
That news seemed to shock Blaise.
“Who’s your sister?”
Medea laughed at Falcyn’s question, unable to believe he could miss the obvious, given how observant he normally was in all other matters. “Brogan.”
“Brogan?” Urian, Blaise, and Falcyn spoke in unison.
Brandor gaped at Medea. “How could you tell?”
She gestured at the two of them. “It’s obvious. You look just alike. And while she hugged you, it wasn’t what one would give to a boyfriend or lover. It was definitely familial. Are you twins?”
Brogan finally stepped away from him. She cast a sheepish glance toward Blaise. “Aye. I told you it could have been much worse. My brother’s life makes a mockery of mine and my sisters’ combined. To protect me from their fate, Bran gave up the bulk of his powers at puberty—transferred them to me so that I’d be stronger and have more value.”
Sadness darkened Brandor’s eyes. “I’ve been trying to help Ro for a long time. But Morgen can’t abide Deathseers in her Circle or the fey court. And as Ro said, I have little power left. The moment I heard you’d been pulled into her realm, I knew this was the only shot we’d ever have of helping each other, and getting her free.”
“So what news do you have to share?” Medea wanted to keep him on point and not let him wander to inconsequential details.
“Morgen has made a pact with the god Apollo. They’re after the goddess Apollymi and intend to use her army of Charonte to kill Acheron and take over Myddangeard and Olympus.”
That was all well and good, except for one thing.
Her people.
“And the Daimons protecting Apollymi?”
“Apollo has sent a plague to kill them and the gallu to punish them for their rebellion against him.”
Well, that explained the foreign illness that was tearing through their ranks. No wonder they couldn’t fight it off. Damn her grandfather for it! Was he never to grow a heart and leave them in peace?