“I don’t know what Narishka did, but your sister was turned to stone. So while she’s not technically living, she’s not exactly dead, either.”
Falcyn felt the blood drain from his cheeks as those words sank in and he realized that for the second time today, he’d been lied to. Not that he should be surprised. His biggest shock came from the fact that they’d all managed to keep the secrets. “Blaise? Did you know about this?”
“No. I was told she went down fighting against Morgen with Anir.” Anir was King Arthur’s son, who’d been turned into a gargoyle due to another curse the fey bitch had put on him and his knights.
Medea placed her hand on Falcyn’s forearm in a comforting gesture before she leaned against his back. “Kessar is a treacherous bastard. Don’t trust him. He wouldn’t know the truth if it bit his furry little ass off.”
Kessar.
Now that was a name Falcyn knew well. “So posh boy’s the gallu leader the Sumerian gods turned against. Bet that ruined your day, huh?”
“You should know, son of Lilith.”
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.”
“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.”
Faster than Medea could blink, 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.”
Medea would have made a comment had Falcyn not decided to lick the blood from his fingers. “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, he 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. I suddenly feel like I’m teaching kindergarten.”
Medea shook her head at Falcyn’s droll tone. “I know why I need your dragonstone. What’s the deal with the others, anyway? Why are they so hot to lay hands to it?”
“Aside from the fact that they’re assholes?” Falcyn headed for the woods. It seemed as likely a spot as any to find an enchanted portal. “Narishka wants it to bring Mordred back to life.”
“Mordred le Fey?”
He inclined his head at her. “Yeah. Apparently, they think they’ve found his tomb, and Mom wants a reunion with her precious little boy.” He smirked. “Personally, I’d like to reunite them in hell. Who’s with me?” His gaze went first to Urian, then Blaise. “Really?” he asked drily. “No takers?”
Medea shrugged. “I might be tempted if I knew who you were talking about.”
“Queen Bitch, Morgen le Fey. Can’t miss her. Tall, gorgeous, meaner than shit. Blond and lethal.”
“Sounds like me … except for the height.”
He laughed. “That’s what all the stories about you say. Are they true?”
“Depends on your side of things. My mother says I’m not mean enough.”
“Ouch.” Falcyn sucked his breath in sharply. “Take it Mommie Dearest has some issues?”
Medea snorted. “Her issues carry Samsonite.”
Urian came up between them. “Enough getting along, you two. It’s starting to creep me out. The last thing any of us needs is a meeting of the two evils.”
She rolled her eyes. “Already had that. My parents. Besides, Falcyn doesn’t strike me as evil.”
Falcyn cocked his head at that, instantly intrigued. No one put him in any other category. Ever. In fact, most ran from him as if he were his father—the fount of all evil itself. And the majority of beings had no idea what spawned him. They only assumed it, given the nature and position of his father. “Really?”
“Hmmm.” She swept a probing stare over his body. “While you are definitely cantankerous, you don’t take pleasure in hurting others.”
“And how do you know that?”
Medea smiled. “Been around real evil long enough to know the difference. Trust me, sugar, you ain’t got it by a long, long shot.”
Falcyn slowed as she quickened her steps to catch up to Blaise. What the hell was that?
A compliment?
He wasn’t quite sure, since he didn’t normally get them from anyone.
Kicks in the ass and teeth?
Those he took routinely.
But strokes to the ego? Foreign, alien beasts he had no concept of. Weird. And it left him with a strange feeling in his stomach.
Maybe those were the aforementioned hunger pangs.
Yet it felt like a hunger for something other than food, for once. And made him harder than he’d ever been in his life.
Urian reached over and brushed his thumb against Falcyn’s jaw. “You’re gaping, brother. Might want to close that before you catch some flies.”