Dragonsworn

  Apollymi was one of the creators of it.

  Medea had always wondered about that. No wonder Apollymi spent hours in her garden at her mirror pool, watching the human realm....

  She was one of the first portal guardians.

  Brogan gestured toward them. "As you can see, their presence disturbs the balance. This isn't their world and they shouldn't be here. We have to return them before they're discovered by the others and chaos ensues."

  Two lights shot out of his torch. They streaked up like the stray magick blasts had done earlier, and circled around the old copian to land on each side of him. There they twisted up from the floor to create two tall, lean, linen-wrapped plague doctors. With wide-brimmed cavalier hats, they stared out from their long-beaked, black linen masks from shiny ebony eyes. Soulless eyes that appeared to be bleeding around the corners. Even the linen was stained with their blood.

  It was an eerie, macabre sight that made the hair on the back of Medea's neck rise. And given the creepy Charonte and gallu demons and Daimons who called her realm home, that said a lot.

  "What are those?"

  "Zeitjagers," Falcyn whispered to her.

  Another term she'd never heard before. "What do they do?"

  "Guard time. But mostly they steal it."

  Was he serious?

  "How do you steal time?"

  Falcyn laughed. "You ever been doing something ... look up and it's hours later and you can't figure out where the time went 'cause it feels like you just sat down?"

  Yeah, of course. Everyone knew that feeling.

  She nodded.

  "Zeitjagers," he said simply. "Insidious bastards. They took that time from you and bottled it for their own means."

  "Why?"

  "So that we can sell it." The copian glanced to his companions. "Time is the most precious commodity in the entire universe. The most sacred. And yet it is the most often squandered. From the moment of our births, we're only allotted so much of it. And for even an hour more, there are those who are willing to give up anything for it." An evil smile curled his lips. "Even their immortal souls."

  A chill went up her spine at the way he said that.

  The copian stepped down to approach Medea. "Surely a child of the Apollite race can understand that driving desperation better than most."

  He was right about that. Nothing like being damned to only twenty-seven years for something you didn't do to make someone realize just how precious life was.

  Even more so while watching everyone around you die long before their time.

  For one more breath, her people were willing to take human lives and destroy their immortal souls. Her one saving grace was that her mother had sacrificed her own soul to save Medea from having to make that choice.

  Because the sad truth was, Medea had been too much of a coward to do it. Unlike Urian and her father, she hadn't been able to destroy a single human soul for her own salvation. She'd been content to die as Apollo had decreed. Honestly, she'd thought that it wasn't her place to do that to another living being. That humanity was innocent and undeserving of such a horrendous fate.

  It wasn't until the humans had robbed her of the ones she held most sacred that she'd lost her own soul in the process and learned not to care. It wasn't just her child they'd killed that day. It was her compassion and ability to feel empathy for anyone else. If they were incapable of respecting her loved ones, be damned if she'd respect theirs.

  That was a two-way street.

  So she'd become the monster they thought her to be. And had been on a centuries-long quest for survival ever since. Putting the good of her race above theirs. Humans could all rot as far as she was concerned.

  Nothing else mattered. On that cold winter's day, they'd become parasites to her.

  No. Worse than that.

  They'd become food.

  The copian cocked his head in such a way that she half expected his elaborate headdress to fall off. Yet it stayed perched perfectly atop his head, as if part of his body. "You've heard the expression 'living on borrowed time'?"

  "Yeah."

  He gave her a crooked smile. "We're the ones you borrow it from."

  Oh yeah, that sent chills over her entire body.

  He swept his sinister gaze over them. "My price is simple. An hour from each of you and I'll open the portal."

  "An hour?" Falcyn sputtered. "How 'bout I just rip some heads off all y'all until you yield?"

  The copian smirked. "You could do that, but you can't open the portal without me."

  "Sure I could find someone."

  "You really want to chance it?"

  Falcyn's expression said he was willing to gamble.

  The copian tsked at him. "So very violent from an immortal who can spare an hour with no problem whatsoever. Think of it like those humans who donate spare change for charity. An hour is but a penny, and you have a jar full of them just sitting in your home that you'll never use. Why not give one to someone who really needs it? Why be so selfish?"

  "Because you're assuming they'll use it for good, when I know for a fact that most people who barter with you don't have kindness in their hearts."

  "True, but sometimes that trash they take out on their way to the grave is a service in and of itself, is it not?" He cast a pointed stare toward Urian, whose gaze narrowed dangerously as the old bastard struck a tender nerve with the former Daimon who'd once made his meals off the worst sort of humanity so that he could elongate his life.

  Blaise sucked his breath in sharply. "Word of advice when dealing with these two? I wouldn't go for the twofers on the insults. Even with the zeitjagers as backup. I mean, let's face it. They're not being peaceful at the moment because they don't know how to be violent ... however, I'll be the first to say have at it if you can get us out of here. You can take two hours from me."

  The copian scowled at Blaise. "Two?"

  "Yeah. One for me and one for Brogan. I'll pay her fee."

  She gasped at his offer. "Why would you do that?"

  Blaise shrugged. "Being stuck here has been punishment enough for you. As noted, I won't miss two hours out of my life. I'd have just wasted them in a movie theater, anyway. And this way, I get to do something useful with them and be a hero to you. That's a loss I can live with." He winked at her. "Besides, I don't intend to leave here without you."

  "Suck up, show-off," Falcyn muttered. Then louder, "Fine, take mine."

  Medea hesitated as a bad feeling went through her. She couldn't explain it, but something in her gut didn't like this. And the look in Falcyn's eyes said he was every bit as suspicious.

  If the others felt it, too, they gave no clue that anything was out of the norm.

  "So how do you take this time from us?" Medea glanced back to the zeitjagers.

  The copian laughed. "It's already gone. As I said, you don't even miss it. You didn't even know we did it."

  Falcyn leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Told you. Insidious bastards."

  No kidding. The only clue was the strange slurping sound the zeitjagers made. At least, she assumed it came from them.

  Maybe not.

  Yeah ... c-r-e-e-p-y.

  The copian walked toward the portal and lifted his staff. The moment he did, the portal came alive with swirling, vibrant colors. He moved his staff through it until the mist began to mimic his movements.

  Red fire shot out from the torch and was absorbed by the mist.

  "It's ready."

  Urian grinned at Medea. "Ladies first."

  She rolled her eyes at her brother. "Like you'd know if I didn't make it."

  "You might be polite and scream ... then again, it is you. Maybe Blaise should go first? I know he'd scream to warn us."

  He turned an angry glare to Falcyn. "I thought you weren't going to tell anyone about my screaming fits?"

  "I didn't. That was Max who outed you."

  "Oh.... Remind me to kill him later." Blaise headed for the portal. "Fine, I'll go through first."
/>
  Brogan took his hand. "I'll go with you."

  Touched by the gesture, Medea headed up the platform to the strange humming beast that seemed to have a life of its own. Yet as she reached the portal, Falcyn held her back.

  He quirked a peculiar smile at her. "In case my usual luck holds and this all goes to hell."

  Before she could tell what he intended, he lowered his head and captured her lips with the hottest kiss she'd ever been given. He held her as if she were the most precious thing in his world.

  As if he loved her.

  Stunned, she couldn't breathe. It actually took her a moment before she could even react enough to kiss him back. But when her brain began to work, she had to admit he was exceptional at this.

  More than that, he set her on fire. It'd been far too long since anyone had kissed her in such a manner. Since any man had made her feel exceptional. While she hadn't been chaste, she hadn't been promiscuous either. Mostly because she'd avoided any emotional entanglement with another living being, other than her mother.

  It didn't matter how much time passed. Thoughts of her son and husband forever haunted her. Nothing could chase away the memory of their smiles. The warmth that she'd once taken for granted.

  Fear of losing another had kept her heart locked in ice.

  Apollites and Daimons were hunted creatures who often lived exceptionally brief lives. Even their strongest were often annihilated by Dark-Hunters, sooner rather than later. And that only compounded her fears to the point that she'd been incapable of opening herself up for more heartache.

  But Falcyn wasn't an Apollite.

  He definitely wasn't a Daimon.

  And when he pulled back, she was left dazed and breathless by the taste of him. A gorgeous smile hovered at the edge of his lips as he stared down at her.

  Without a word, he led her into the portal and kept her steady....

  Falcyn cursed the moment he felt the energy pulling at his body.

  And then it sucked them into the stinging vortex.

  He'd always hated stepping through one of these gates. Blaise was a lot more used to it than he was, since he held one of the keys that enabled him to travel to and from the veil world where Merlin had pulled Avalon and Camelot to so that she could protect the other worlds and realms from Morgen's evil. After the death of King Arthur, it'd been the only way to secure the realm of man, and the other eight worlds from Morgen and her evil Circle. Otherwise, Morgen's fey court would have enslaved them all.

  But as for Falcyn, he liked to stay planted in one dimension. This kind of hopping through nether portals crap was not his forte.

  And as the colors swirled and he lost his bearings and feared his lunch would follow, Falcyn definitely understood why he'd always felt that way. This shit sucked! Give him wings and flight or teleportation any day.

  Especially when he went slamming hard into a dark, damp ground a few minutes later.

  Gah! That was going to leave a mark.

  Groaning, he lay on his back as everything spun around like a Tilt-A-Whirl. And he hadn't even got a funnel cake or fried Twinkie out of it.

  With a grimace, Falcyn rubbed at his eyes. "Blaise? You dead?"

  "No." He didn't sound like he was in any better shape than Falcyn, though.

  "Good. I want the pleasure of killing you myself, you bastard!"

  Blaise snorted.

  "Don't scoff, dragon," Urian said, his tone every bit as peeved. "Soon as I can move again, I intend to help with your murder and dismemberment."

  Falcyn turned his head to the right, where Medea lay a few feet away from his side, unmoving on the grass. "Medea?"

  She finally lifted a hand to brush her hair from her face. "Not dead, either."

  That made him feel a bit better. "Brogan?"

  "Just wishing I was." Shifting her legs, she made no move to rise. Rather she seemed content to lie on her back, staring up at the dismally gray sky. "Is it always this miserable to travel in such a manner?"

  Blaise sighed. "Pretty much. Least I didn't slam into an invisible force field this time."

  Rolling over, Falcyn pushed himself into a sitting position, then scowled as he caught sight of the dark, twisted trees around him. Trees that lined an equally screwed-up, bleak landscape the likes of which he hadn't thought to ever see again.

  Oh, this can't be right.

  Yet he knew he wasn't dreaming. And he definitely wasn't imagining this.

  "Hey, Blaise ... Why the hell are we in Camelot?"

  "Whaaaaat?" He rose with a fierce scowl and looked up as if he could see the sky, which he couldn't. But it didn't stop him from trying.

  Falcyn let out a tired, irritated sigh. "Correct me if I'm wrong."

  His white-blond hair shimmering in the fey light, Blaise paled as he sniffed the air. "Well ... you're kind of wrong."

  "How so?"

  "This isn't Camelot ... exactly."

  That only made his stomach tighten with dread. "What's not exactly Camelot?"

  "Val Sans Retour."

  Ah shit ... He'd rather be in Camelot. With Morgen, tied to her throne. Naked and declawed.

  Muzzled even.

  Sitting up immediately, Medea scowled at them both. "The what?"

  Falcyn let out another groan before he answered. "The Valley of No Return. So named because no one ever comes out of here alive. Like Blaise ... because I really am going to kill him as soon as I find my strength."

  "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 s
een 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."