Falcyn moved in to protect her. “What are you doing here?” he demanded of them.
“We’re here for your stone, dragon.”
Falcyn tsked. “Ah, see, you don’t want to be going there, guys. You come for my stone and I’ll be handing you yours instead. Now before the massive geldings commence, I suggest you take yourselves back to whatever moron sent you out on this suicide quest and bitch-slap them with my deepest regards.”
Medea rolled her eyes at his sense of irony while Davyn made an indefinable noise that landed somewhere between humor and horror. Her father actually laughed.
Her mother applauded. “I like the way your dragon thinks, Medea.”
“I knew you would, Mum. Knew you would.”
The strykyn moved in to attack, but before they could get near them, a murder of Charonte overran their group like a school of starving piranha.
Medea ducked as one of the Charonte almost took her head off in his enthusiasm to chow down on the nearest strykyn.
They howled as the Charonte tore into them with glee.
Falcyn screwed his face up. “Guess they’re not on Acheron’s Charonte no-eat list.”
Obviously. Just as Apollymi must still be looking out for her Daimon army, as well. Nice to know the goddess of destruction hadn’t abandoned them in their hour of need.
Made her feel almost warm and fuzzy inside.
Or maybe that was the sudden weird nausea caused by the hungry demons.
Medea cringed as one of the female demons moved to rip a strykyn apart. “Wonder if they taste like chicken?”
“Ew, Chicken Little! I know we’re cannibals, technically, but still.…” Davyn nudged at her. “You’ve been hanging out with the dragons too long.”
“Actually, Simi.” Worse? This was making her crave barbecue. Yeah, she was sick and she admitted it.
But then, that was what made her the villain. And what made her appreciate the darker side of Falcyn.
Which terrified her. She’d spent centuries alone, never thinking about being with someone else. Never considering the possibility of ever being part of a couple again. She’d become relegated to the concept. Complacent.
Now …
Dare she trust Brogan’s prophecy?
Her own feelings?
For so long life had given her more kicks than it’d withheld. And that made it all the harder to trust. All the harder to believe. How could she have faith when all she knew was betrayal and pain?
Then again, two negatives did make a positive. And no one and nothing was more negative than Falcyn and her.
Together …
He scowled at her as he caught the look in her eyes. “What’s that mean?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Falcyn snorted. “You must be thinking something good about me then.”
“I was.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t believe it.”
She popped him playfully on his arm. “Told you.”
Shaking his head, he whistled at the Charonte. “As much as I’d love to see a bloody banquet ensue, and that it pains me to put the brakes on your feast. But…”
The Charonte actually whimpered.
“Yeah, we might need the war birds, so could you stow the condiments and hang on to the poultry for a few?” He walked over to the strykyn leader and literally plucked him from the hands of the Charonte who’d been one bite away from his jugular. “Who exactly sent you?”
With an audible gulp, the strykyn rubbed at his bite wound. “Morgen and Apollo.”
He draped his arm around the warrior’s shoulders and pulled him away from the demon. “And how loyal are you feeling to them at the moment?”
The strykyn glanced around the room to the faces of his men and the Charonte who were begging him to be loyal to the Greek god and fey queen so that Falcyn would allow them to finish their meal in peace. “Um … Not very.”
“Good answer. Which means I’m going to not feed you to the Charonte.”
There were more protests from the disappointed demons as they begged harder for him to reconsider.
“–Quite yet.” Falcyn held his hand up to quell them. “There’s always later. However, I’m feeling uncharacteristically charitable at the moment. So I would urge the lot of your friends here to not try my patience, or that of Apollymi’s. And definitely not tempt the Charonte, who have no restraint whatsoever, and an insatiable hunger. Pack your wings, strykyn, and fly home, empty taloned. What do you think?”
The strykyn didn’t hesitate with his answer. “I think your stone looks good on you, my lord.”
Falcyn patted him on the cheek. “Thought you might feel that way, punkin. Now take your little owlkateers and vamoose.”
Medea waited until they were gone. “You think you can trust them?”
“Hell, no. But I think I can trust their fear of our friends here.” Falcyn looked down at her and frowned. “However, that’s not what really concerns me.”
“No?”
“Nope. What rates highest on my shitometer at the moment is just how the hell they got into Kalosis to begin with. I mean, think about it. Breaching the portal … not an easy feat. We know Mama Polly didn’t open it. We didn’t let them in.” He glanced to her parents. “Lucy, want to take this?”
Her father turned pale. “He’s right. The number of people who can open a bolt-hole is finite and small.”
Medea went cold. “There’s a traitor among us.”
Davyn’s eyes widened. “Who would dare?”
Only one name came to mind.
She arched a brow at him as they both knew that Davyn had dared in the past, but that had been for Urian’s benefit alone. And while she knew he’d carried information to her brother, she didn’t suspect him in this. It was one thing to help out his friend. Quite another to help out an enemy who’d betrayed them all.
An enemy and god no one could stand.
No. Davyn would never have helped Apollo against his own race. A race Apollo had cursed to die.
Only a rank idiot would be so stupid. So who among them was that said idiot?
Her mother crossed her arms over her chest. “We will find them and eat their entrails.”
The Charonte perked up at her words.
“Yes,” her mother said, louder. “I will personally hand-feed them to you, my demons. With barbecue sauce.”
“Find the traitor!” they chanted as they rushed from the room to begin a search.
“Wow.” Falcyn let out a nervous laugh. “Charonte are some scary beasts. Basically flying piranha, except piranha aren’t nearly as … hungry.”
“No kidding. Makes you wonder what the Lemurians were thinking when they created them.”
“That they hated the Atlanteans.”
The four of them stared at Falcyn for his flat-toned response.
“What? I was there … ish. It was what they were created to attack.”
“Then how did they end up enslaved to the Atlanteans?” Medea was dying to know.
“Same way you ended up with a dragonstone.”
She scowled at his answer. “Huh?”