Morgen snapped her fingers for a grayling. "Fetch Maddor."
She practically salivated for his dragonstone.
And that caused something to confuse him as he reflected on her words and eagerness.
"Question, Morgen ... why is Mordred so special to you? Above all others? As you said about Maddor not being your only brother, he's not your only child. In fact, Mordred isn't even your only son."
Her eyes flared red. "That's no concern of yours, is it?"
No, but her reaction told him much. There was something special about Mordred. Something more than her other children. Just what it was remained the question.
And that sent a chill down his spine, as whatever differentiated Mordred from his siblings could not possibly bode well for the rest of them.
Ever.
Damn ...
But that thought scattered as soon as he saw Maddor.
If he lived another thousand years, he'd never forget the expression on his son's face. The disbelief that melted into relief and settled into stoicism so fast that it almost made him laugh. He'd be offended if he didn't understand the fact that in this company it didn't pay to show weakness.
Still, he'd seen it. No matter how brief.
His son was grateful to him that he'd come here to rescue him.
And so was he. More than anyone would ever know.
Waiting until Maddor reached his side, he used his powers to guide the stone across the room, in thin air, to Morgen.
A wicked smile curved her lips as she seized the stone and wrapped her greedy hands around it.
Then, she looked up and pinned him with a sinister glare. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"What?"
"A dragonstone without a dragon is worthless. How stupid do you think I am?"
Honestly? Falcyn was hoping she wouldn't remember that small detail. In fact, he'd been counting on it.
Crap ...
Reacting, he pulled away from Medea, to draw their fire in the opposite direction from her presence. "Shadow? Get Maddor and Medea out of here!" He pushed them toward him, intending to cover their retreat.
But the moment his gaze met Medea's, he realized that she had other plans.
True to her stubborn Apollite nature, she planned to stay with him.
"I won't lose another man I love, and I won't see you lose your son." She brushed her lips against his an instant before she shoved him through the portal Shadow had opened, then used her powers to seal it shut.
Falcyn was through it and back in Sanctuary before he could even protest.
He landed on the third-floor section, right beside Maddor and Shadow.
Colt cocked his brow at their group. "What the hell is this? You're back again?"
Disoriented, Falcyn scowled. "Why are we here? Shouldn't we be back in Kalosis?"
Hissing, Shadow rubbed at his shoulder. "Can't get in there without Medea. Apollymi would have a shit-fit. Might feed my raunchy ass to a Charonte. Not worth the chance."
Panicked, Falcyn turned around slowly as he realized he had no way to reach Medea while she was in Camelot. He felt the blood draining from his face as the full impact of what she'd done hit him.
She'd sacrificed her life for his.
What the fuck was that?
Fury scorched every part of him at the very thought of her facing Morgen on his behalf. How dare she put herself in harm's way! And for what?
For him?
I'm not worth it.
Tears choked him.
"Falcyn?"
He didn't know who spoke. He couldn't hear past his rushing heartbeat. Not until he felt a hand on his arm.
"Father?"
It wasn't until then that he realized it'd been Maddor who spoke.
Blinking, he met his son's gaze.
"We'll get her back."
"How?" Even he heard the crack in his voice.
Maddor gave him a cocky grin. "I might be a bastard, but I wasn't without some friends in Camelot."
Shadow nodded. "Ditto. Morgen wants a war? Let's give her one."
*
Morgen tsked at Medea. "I can't believe you did something so foolish, little girl."
"Oh, stick around, hon. My stupidity has just begun." Medea used her powers to snatch the dragonstone from Morgen's grasp.
That expression of shock would be comical in a less dire situation. As it was, Medea ran for the nearest door with no idea where it would lead. It just seemed like the best course of action would be to put as much distance between them as possible.
She hit the hallway at full speed.
Oh yeah, this was dumb. Dark and dismal, it was lit with an unholy glowing light. Sinister shadows danced around her like living creatures.
With no idea of where to seek shelter, Medea rushed toward wherever. She had absolutely no destination in mind. Just any place else but here.
Which turned out to be straight into Narishka.
Beautimous.
Medea cursed under her breath as the fey bitch tsked at her. "Be a good girl. Hand it over."
"Not a good girl. I'm a villain, too. You want it? Gotta fight me for it. Come get some, bitch." She tucked it in her bra and manifested a set of bagh nakas. For this, she wanted to feel some blood on her hands.
And fangs.
Narishka sent an invisible blast toward her.
Medea countered and sent one of her own. "C'mon. That all you got?"
They attacked en masse and quickly learned why she was the leader of her father's army, as Medea unleashed eleven thousand years of pent-up Daimon fury on them. One thing about the Spathi, they didn't hold back.
And they didn't flinch. Forget the Spartans. The Spathi Daimons were the warriors who could make King Leonidas wet his pteruges.
But that wasn't the only reason she fought. In the back of her mind was the past, when they'd come for Praxis and Evander.
That night, she hadn't fought at all. Untrained and passive, she'd been helpless before the humans as they slaughtered her husband and son. Back then, she'd told herself that it was more noble to do as the gods decreed and accept her fate, whatever it was.
To be dutiful. To submit docilely, like a good citizen.
The nail that stood out was hammered down.
Evander had believed it, too. So they had followed the rules and done what they were supposed to. They'd never made noise. Never bothered anyone.
Never harmed another living soul.
It hadn't mattered. Her loyalty had been returned to her with treachery, betrayal, and blood.
Her kindness shoved down her throat. Those she counted as friends had been the first to turn against her and cast her to the wolves. Not a one had spoken up in her defense.
Not a single act of charity remembered. No. They hadn't returned to her the respect she'd shown them. Or the regard. Rather, everyone she'd ever helped had abandoned her as if she'd never done anything for them.
Cold-hearted, selfish fucking bastards!
For that bitterest lesson, she'd hated them all.
And that night she'd learned her most vital piece. To thine own self be true. Not just with honesty, but with charity first. For no one else would ever stand up for her when it mattered most.
In the end, you come into this world alone.
Alone you will leave it.
Feet first.
She'd entered this world fighting, with someone else's blood on her fists, and that was exactly how she intended to go out.
Grinding her teeth, she caught the largest Adoni warrior a punch to the jaw that sent the giant bastard reeling.
Then, turning, she flipped the next one from his feet and delivered a punch to his throat. Her ears buzzed from the rush of blood. Fury coursed through every part of her as it demanded more and more of their life force.
The beast in her was awake and it was starving.
They surrounded her. Outnumbered her. There was no way she'd survive them all. She knew that beyond a doubt.
 
; She didn't care.
War wasn't always about survival for yourself. It was about protecting what you loved. Preserving those you held sacred so that they could carry on after you. Making sure they had a future. And if that meant sacrificing your own for theirs, so be it.
One life for the many.
Medea felt a piercing pain in her side.
And still fought. Even though the pain threatened to send her to her knees, she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fall. Her mother had raised her better than that.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind.
With a vicious hiss, she moved to clobber her attacker, then froze as she caught sight of the most insanely gorgeous man in any world.
"Falcyn." His name was a prayer on her lips.
"You had to know I wouldn't leave you behind." He cradled her to his chest and ducked so that Shadow and Blaise could cover their retreat.
Tears filled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Morgen let out a fierce shriek.
Falcyn turned on her and fire-blasted her. Then he took Medea back to his cavern, where Maddor quickly joined them. He laid her down on his bed so that he could inspect the wound in her side. "I can't leave you alone for five seconds, can I?"
"It was more than five seconds, dragonfly. Do I need to buy you a watch?" She hissed and slapped at his hand as he touched a tender place.
"Oh! Hey!"
"That hurt!"
"Yeah, I know." He shook his hand.
Scowling at him, she fished his dragonstone from her bra and returned it to him. "Don't even start with me."
His jaw went slack. "How did you manage to get it back?"
"Ain't no bitch going to handle my man's rocks while I'm around. Really?"
Maddor's eyes bugged at her words. "I'm going to wait outside."
Falcyn laughed, then kissed her.
Medea sighed as she felt the heat of his kiss flow all the way through her body. More than that, she felt the warmth of his stone knitting her wound closed and healing her.
Completely.
And when he pulled back, she cupped his face and realized that Brogan had been right. She did have a future with him after all.
"So tell me, dragonfly. Where do a dragon and a Daimon make their home?"
"Simple, Lady Spathi. Wherever it is that they want. Whatever it is they want."
EPILOGUE
Medea had been dreading this moment for days. But it was something that had to be done and something that she didn't want Urian to discover on his own. Better the news come from someone he loved than to be dumped on him by accident.
And how she'd allowed Falcyn to talk her into doing this in Acheron's palace on Katateros, she had no idea.
She definitely loved the beast. Only that could account for this level of insanity.
But in the end, he was right. It was better that Urian be comfortable and surrounded by family when he learned the truth than to be blindsided and surrounded by strangers. That wouldn't bode well for anyone.
Still ...
This was nerve-wracking. The huge marble palace was awe inspiring, as one would expect the home of ancient gods to be. It was built to impress, and she was definitely not immune to its austerity.
Acheron's throne was set off to her right on a massive dais where several small little dragon-like creatures were currently curled around and napping with Acheron's two toddler sons. The way the creatures were entwined, she wasn't even sure how many of them there were.
Simi and her Charonte sister were on the floor to her left, watching some shopping network channel on a massively huge monitor that was mounted to the wall. Completely content, they were eating barbecue-drenched popcorn out of a bowl they shared that was perched between them while Acheron's steward, Alexion, and his wife, Danger, kept it filled to capacity.
Acheron's twin brother, Styxx, met her and Falcyn in the doorway. At almost seven feet in height, he was an impressively handsome beast. Dressed in a casual blue button-down shirt and jeans, he was a far cry from Ash's preferred Goth style. "Yeah, we know. But it keeps them out of trouble and stops them from putting horns on the babies' heads."
Medea laughed as she saw that Styxx's wife, Bethany, was holding their youngest son in her arms and cooing to the toddler. "So this is the little Aricles I keep hearing about from big brother Urian."
With her black spiral curls pulled away from her face in a ponytail, Bethany rubbed her son's back. Her caramel skin was flawless over sharply chiseled features. "Would you like to hold him?"
"I might keep him if I do."
Ari smiled as he looked up at her. "Mimi?"
Completely sunk, Medea took him and was lost the moment he wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her with a giddy squeal and bounce. It'd been so long since she last held a baby that she'd forgotten just how wonderful it felt to have such unbounded affection.
That was the hardest part about being around Daimons--they couldn't have children. Only Apollites could.
Falcyn brushed his hand through her hair. "You okay?"
She nodded. "You're screwed, though. Word of warning. I want a bunch of these again."
He wrinkled his nose as Aricles squeezed Falcyn's finger and bit it. "I don't know. He's kind of smelly and leaking out both ends."
Bethany laughed. "It doesn't bother you when it's yours who smells that way."
"If you say so." He met Styxx's gaze doubtfully.
Styxx cleared his throat. "I'm agreeing with Beth. All the way."
"That's because my brother is not a fool." Acheron came in and clapped his hands on Styxx's shoulders.
Medea froze at the sight of them together. While she knew they were identical, except for their eye color and hair color--and that only because Acheron artificially colored his black and red--it was still shocking to see them side by side like this.
If the two of them put their minds to it, there would really be no way to tell them apart.
Spooky.
"Dear gods, who's dead?"
They all froze as Urian came into the room to catch them gathered together.
"Please tell me it's Stryker." There was no missing the hopeful note in Urian's voice.
"Not funny." She handed Aricles back to Bethany as she braced herself for the last thing she wanted to do.
How in the world was she going to tell Urian about Phoebe....
Now she wished she'd taken Davyn up on his offer to be here for this confrontation. But then she wasn't a coward, and Urian was her brother.
I can do this.
Falcyn put his hand on her shoulder to let her know that he was with her. She took comfort in his presence.
And with a deep breath, she braced herself for what was going to be a bad reaction.
Real bad.
"There's something I need to tell you, Urian. Something you're not going to believe."
"I've won the mega-million lottery?"
She rolled her eyes at his misplaced and extremely irritating humor. "No. It's about Phoebe."
That sobered him completely. The color faded from his cheeks. When he spoke, his tone was brittle. "What about her?"
There was no easy way to do this. So she settled on just ripping the Band-Aid off as quickly and mercifully as possible. "Stryker didn't kill her that night. She's still alive."
Gah, that sounded harsh even to her own ears. She could kick her own ass.
Delicate, thy name is not Medea.
He staggered back into his father's arms and would have fallen had Styxx not been there. "What?"
"Breathe," Styxx whispered in his ear. "I've got you."
Urian shook his head. "It's not possible."
I feel that, brother.
But she had to be strong for him. And she had no choice now except to see this through. "Both Davyn and I saw her. She's alive, Urian. Just not the same."
Tears filled his eyes as he met Acheron's gaze. "Did you know?"
"I swear on my
mother's life, I had no idea. She's not human so I can't see her fate. It's beyond my powers. If I'd known, I'd have told you."
Urian blinked and blinked again as he slowly digested her news and came to terms with it. "Stryker knew?"
Medea nodded weakly.
His breathing ragged, Urian glared at her. "Why didn't he tell me?"
"He didn't want you to feel guilty for what she's become. For what she did."
He scowled at her. "What she did?"
"She attacked the commune where you had her housed. He said that she became corrupted by the souls she was consuming to live."
A tear ran down his cheek as he stared into space. Raw, tormented anguish radiated from him. It was obvious that he was blaming himself, just like her father had predicted. "Ash ... is there any way to get her back?"
"Not that I know. But I'm a god of fate. Not one of souls." He looked at Bethany.
She shook her head. "Wrath, warfare, misery, and the hunt. You need someone hunted down and killed with extreme prejudice, I'm your girl. But I was never in charge of souls, either. Sorry."
Falcyn sighed. "And I'm a war god, too. What a worthless lot we are."
"Although..."
They turned to stare at Acheron.
Ash bit his lip as he considered something. "This is a long shot. I mean it's a Hail Mary pass of all time."
"What?" Urian stepped away from his father.
"I might know somebody who can help with this.... Xander."
Medea scowled. "Who's Xander?"
"A Dark-Hunter currently stationed in New Orleans. He was a sorcerer. One of the darkest powers. So much so, Artie only got a part of his soul. He deals with transmutations and is the only non-demon I know who can bargain with Jaden and Thorn. If anyone can help you, he'll be your best bet."
"You think he'll do it?"
Ash let out a nervous laugh. "I don't know. He's a tricky son of a bitch. But he does have a weakness."
"And that is?"
"Brynna Addams and Kit Baughy. They can talk him into most things. Maybe, just maybe, they can talk him into this."
*
Apollo froze as he saw Morgen approaching his throne. Her hair was singed, her dress torn and filthy. "You look a little worse for the wear, love."
She actually shot a blast at him. "You bastard!"
He arched a brow at her. "Temper, temper. Be careful with that, lest I take offense."
"Take all you want! What happened to the dragonstone you promised me?"
"Patience. The game isn't over. Just a slight reset on the board."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
He let out a long, weary sigh. "I forget that you're not a god. Playing with people's lives isn't something you've much experience with. Sometimes you have to let things run their course."