This time, no one would stop the Dagger Ixur from fulfilling his dark quest and ending the Andarion kakistocracy forever.
Shrieking in outrage, Eriadne opened fire as soon as she realized his intent. She ran for cover.
Twirling his sword around his body, Jullien used his powers to deflect her blasts. He spewed his fyrebreath and ripped open everyone who came at him. Most shrank back immediately, realizing they were no match for a pissed-off Samari hybrid with fyre and telekinesis.
A few braver souls engaged him for their tadara, and they died valiantly for that effort.
When he finally caught up to Eriadne, she was in the marble hallway of the senate building, which stood next door to where the palace had been. Her bracelet had caught in the giant tapestry that hung in the foyer. Though how she'd managed that, Jullien couldn't imagine.
Desperately, she was trying to free herself. "We can make a deal, Jullien. It's not too late for you to return to your place as my tahrs."
He laughed bitterly. "I would ask if you were insane, but I already know the answer. I told you when I was a child what I would do to you if you ever went for my matarra again. Twice, I allowed you to live. Now--"
She snapped her hand free. Too late he realized that she hadn't been caught in the tapestry. She'd been using it to unwind the bracelet from her wrist.
And that wasn't a bracelet. It was a sling bow with a poisoned dart.
One she shot straight into his bare chest. "You didn't really think Faran or my sister killed Edon Samari, did you?" she sneered at him as he staggered back in pain. "While he was a bold bastard and she a heinous bitch, even they lacked the balls to take out one of my lovers without my permission."
Gasping, Jullien pulled the dart from of his heart and dropped it to the floor.
She laughed at his pain and shoved him back another step. Then she had the stupidity to keep talking, instead of running. "I should have killed your mother the moment I birthed her, too. I kept hoping one of you wouldn't be a disappointment. No matter. I--"
Jullien cut her words off with one final stroke of Edon Samari's Warsword. "Fuck you, bitch," he snarled over her headless corpse. "I am the blood of Edon Samari and an eton Anatole. No damn whore is going to kill me and live. I'll see your worthless ass in Tophet. Make sure to save me a place by your side so I can torture you for eternity."
Grabbing his grisly war trophy from the floor by the hair his grandmother had been so proud of, Jullien had one last promise to fulfill before the Korilon came to take his rotten soul to the gods for its final Rekkynynge.
*
Ushara withdrew from the fighting as Nykyrian finally quelled the crowd and brought it under control. While they might hate Jullien, the Andarions loved him. And no one wanted his grandmother back in power.
No one.
It didn't take Nykyrian long to get them to turn against the foreign League soldiers who'd been assigned there. The speed with which the trained army dropped weapons and fled was actually comical.
Even faster was how quickly the Andarion armada retook an oath of allegiance to Nykyrian even without his having the Anatole family Warsword in his possession.
Ushara scanned the crowd. "Where's Jullien?"
Thraix grimaced. "I'm not sure you want that answer."
Trajen sucked his breath in sharply between his teeth. "Yeah ... we might want to face you in another direction."
"What?" She glanced up to follow their line of sight, then wished she hadn't. "Oh dear gods. Is that ... a head?"
Nykyrian laughed as he saw it. "Damn. That's so cold." His laughter faded as he took note of the other objects Jullien had left behind on the flagpole. "Not sure exactly what my brother is trying to say by that flag order. Should I be upset ... or concerned?"
"What do you mean?" Ushara asked.
He screwed his face up. "He put his flag above mine."
Trajen slid an evil smirk to Nykyrian. "Technically, he put my flag over yours. That's the Gorturnum National flag. Not Jules's personal Canting, which he could have done, as he has his own. For that matter, it's not even the UTC flag."
Ushara nodded. "Yeah, so I wouldn't take it personally, Alteske. I think all it means is that he values our branch of The Tavali over The Sentella and Andaria."
But a tattered Alliance flag now flew once more above them all.
She headed for that flagpole as fast as she could, knowing Jullien would be coming from that direction.
Jullien met her halfway through the crowd. The instant she saw him, she knew something was wrong. There was a paleness to his features that wasn't normal. His skin held a grayish cast to it as he dragged two swords by his side.
"Jules?"
He was shivering and sweating. "She poisoned me."
"No!"
"It's okay. You're safe now. They can't touch you."
"No, it's not okay! Jullien, don't you do this to me. You fight. You hear me!"
He nodded weakly, then fell to his hands and knees. Ushara sank down by his side.
Thraix and Trajen rushed to them.
"Boy," Trajen said between gritted teeth as he saw Jullien's state of near unconsciousness. "You get yourself into more shit."
Thraix snorted his agreement. "He's going to hate us."
"He'll get over it." Trajen gently moved her aside so that he could kneel on one side of Jullien while Thraix knelt on the other.
Together, they used their powers to siphon the poison from his system and heal him. But judging from the way Jullien writhed and groaned, it must have been excruciating. He cursed them worse than she'd cursed him while she was in labor.
When he was finally healed, Jullien hissed at Thraix and actually slapped his hand away.
Scowling, Thraix popped him back. "You are such an irritable asshole."
Jullien smirked. "Contentious from my first breath to my last."
With a laugh, Thraix helped him back to his feet while Trajen shrugged his jacket off and gave it to Jullien to put on. Then, Thraix handed him the sheath for the Samari Warsword so that Jullien could strap it over his back.
As soon as he was dressed, Jullien grabbed Ushara and kissed her. Until he realized his brother was staring at them.
He pulled back. "What did I screw up now?"
Nykyrian snorted as he met Darling's gaze, then Dancer's and Fain's. "He really is a contrary asshole." He held his hand out to Jullien. "Thank you. I owe you my life, little brother."
Jullien shook his head. "No, drey." He met Ushara's gaze and smiled at her. "I owe you mine." Only then did he take Nyk's hand and allow him to pull him in for a brief hug.
"So where does this leave us?" Nykyrian asked with a frown.
Jullien looked around at The Sentella and in particular the War Hauk family. Shame darkened his eyes, especially when he met Talyn's red gaze. "Familiar strangers. I know there's no reparation for what I've done. Against any of you. Or for what I've taken. Sorry will never cover the scars I gouged out of your souls. Believe me, I know and understand the hatred I earned. We are what we've always been ... dysfunctional."
"Maybe in time..."
He scoffed at his brother's kindness. "We're not saints, Nyk. We're warriors. Means I don't have to like you to fight to the death for you. If you ever need extra firepower, I'm always one unanswered call away."
Nyk laughed. "Ditto."
With a bashful grin, Jullien scratched his chin with his thumb. "Ah hell, who knows? Maybe someday our kids can grow up to be friends. I think that's the best any of us can hope for. In the meantime, just pretend I died that night in the restaurant. You really owe me nothing. You already put me through a wall and kicked my ass. That's all I deserve and what I earned."
Nykyrian had the decency to look embarrassed. "Are you really happy?"
"More than I have a right to be." Jullien cradled Ushara's hand in his. "It took me a while, and a lot of well-earned ass-beatings, but what I finally had to learn was that happiness isn't something someone gives you, and it
isn't something you find or buy. It's something you make. Something you sometimes have to work hard for. It comes from within, not without."
He kissed Ushara's palm. "And by the gods, having earned it now and being lucky enough to finally have it in my life, I'll be fucking damned if I ever let anyone take it from me again."
Nyk inclined his head to them. "All right, I shall leave you to it. But I am going to reconfirm the report that Jullien eton Anatole is dead and make damn sure that the Kill-Warrant is canceled. For good, this time. And I will file a death certificate for that name--just to be safe. The Sentella will purge your prints and DNA from all records and databases, and I will personally make sure that your accounts and holdings are transferred by way of inheritance to Jullien's maternal cousin, Dagger Samari."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because they're yours by right of birth. You and your children, and wife should have what you're entitled to. And when you and your children are ready, if they want to join Andarion society, I'll make sure they enter as full tizirani and tizirahie. Same for Triosa. It's only fair. The Anatoles put us both through hell. Besides, you need every cred you can lay hands to for therapy. Trust me, I know."
Snorting, Jullien used his powers to retrieve the second Warsword from the ground where he'd dropped it. He handed it to his brother.
Nyk scowled at it.
"It's yours. I took it from Eriadne's body. Make sure your mother returns it to the Anatole family vault once you rebuild the palace. And don't worry, it's not the one I took her head with." He gestured at the Samari Warsword that was now strapped across his back, over Trajen's jacket. "I used mine for that honor."
Ushara's breath caught as it dawned on her that this was the first time he didn't claim Cairistiona as his own mother.
His brother hesitated at the realization that this was the Anatole family Warsword. "You could have seized the throne of Andaria with this."
"Never wanted your throne, drey. Damn sure don't want the drama or nightmare that comes with it." He draped his arm over Ushara and held her close. "I have everything I need right here."
Nykyrian hugged them both. "I wish you both well, and all the blessings of the gods."
"You, too, brother. You, too."
As Nyk walked away, Dancer came up to Jullien. For several long seconds, they stood without speaking.
"You really tried to save me when the pod crashed that day in school?"
"Check the hospital records, Dancer. I was admitted an hour after you were. Chrisen and Merrell overdosed me out of fear that I would tell on them. My grandmother told your parents it was from the injuries I sustained from the crash, but the hospital records show the truth. Plus I have the scars where they held me in place. I didn't want you hurt. They wanted Fain punished and under control. You were just their unfortunate victim that day. And for that, I'm eternally sorry."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You were a kid. Same as me. What would you have done? Your mother wasn't about to cross my grandmother. Endine would have cut Fain's throat herself, and yours to curry royal favor. And you wouldn't have believed me back then, anyway. We were both children against a vindictive tadara and your bitch of a mother. There was nothing to be done."
Fain let out a tired breath as he joined them. "I've hated you for so long that it pains me to admit how right you are."
Jullien looked past him to his son Talyn. "You've got much better reasons to hate me, Hauk."
He stiffened as Talyn and his mother drew near and waited for the famed Ring fighter to knock his head off. It was what he fully deserved for what they'd done to the kid.
Instead, Talyn glanced to Ushara, then back to Jullien. "You're in luck, asshole. As a former lack-Vest, I've never been in the position that I could afford to hold on to grudges. Besides, I'd be dead right now had you not sent Ushara and Trajen to the Port StarStation. As much as I'd like to hate you for that little stint in prison I had, I keep thinking back to Trajen pulling that wall off me and my paka." He held his hand out to Jullien. "Thank you for that."
Still, Jullien hesitated. "You're not going to sucker-punch me, now, are you?"
"If I wanted to kill you, I'd just shoot you. Be easier than risking a hand injury on your hard head."
Laughing, Jullien took his hand.
"But ... I have to say this. I do hate you for another reason."
Jullien arched a brow as he searched his mind. For the life of him, he couldn't think of anything else Talyn could possibly hold against him. "That is?"
"Cutting the bitch's head off. I wanted that kill. Damn you for it."
He laughed. "It's all right. I wanted Merrell and Chrisen, and you got those honors. Any idea how much I hated you for that?"
Talyn snorted. "You didn't miss much. One pissed on me. The other barfed."
Jullien rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that sounds like the cousins I knew and loathed so well."
Ushara stiffened as Galene stepped forward, and she waited to see what the female would do. As an Andarion mother, she well understood Galene's animosity for Jullien. However, she wasn't about to allow Galene to harm her husband.
Not for any reason.
If she so much as scowled at him, they were about to throw-down.
Jullien's grip tightened on her hand, but other than that, he gave no indication of his reservation.
Finally, Galene spoke. "I never once considered how cruel it was for you to see Talyn being held so often and loved on by your mother while we banned you from her presence. I keep thinking back to how many times I found you lurking in the shadows outside her door, day and night. And I'd yell at you for it. My only thought was how upset Cairie would be to find you there, and how hard she'd be to calm down, thinking you were Eadvard come to harm her. Not once did I consider the fact that you were just a child needing someone's lap to sit on, too. And that you were only there, trying to seek some modicum of affection from anyone you could find. And instead of kindness, all you found was more insults and cruelty. I'm sorry, Jullien."
Jullien glanced to Talyn. "That doesn't excuse what I let happen to Talyn, when I knew better. Worse, I kept his whereabouts from you and hid what they'd done. I'm damned for that one act alone, and I know it. It's why I made sure WAR approved him for admission to their group after Jayne freed him from Onoria, and I saw the way Eriadne and Chrisen intended to keep going for his throat. I knew WAR would protect him from their treachery. But don't worry. I won't darken your doorways ever again and remind you of what I did."
Galene smiled at him. "I don't know, Jullien. Had you not darkened our doorway, both Fain and Talyn would be dead now. Thank you for saving their lives." She stepped forward and kissed his cheek.
"Aw!" Chayden said as he sidled up to Jullien's side. "Can I kiss your cheek, too?"
Jullien scoffed and shoved him back. "Something is so profoundly wrong with you." He glanced around. "Where have you and Jory been, anyway?"
"Do not ask questions you do not want answered, my brother. Remember, ninety percent of survival in this life is plausible deniability. Especially when you're as high-ranking in the command food chain as you are."
"Now you're scaring me."
"Good." Chayden flashed a devilish grin.
Nykyrian gave the orders for everyone to pack up and head back to the Cyperian base.
Ushara took Jullien's hand. "Ready to go home?"
That question brought a lump to his throat as he handed her his Samari Warsword. "More than you'll ever know."
*
"Thraix Sparda?"
As they headed for their ships to return, Thraix cut an irritated grimace to Trajen at the sound of the familiar voice that belonged to the very person they'd both been avoiding this entire adventure.
Steeling his emotions, and in particular his anger, he turned to face Nero Scalera--Trajen's older brother, who was one of Nykyrian's best friends and a member of The Sentella.
Bastard hadn't changed much since the day they'd fled the
Chillers hunting them. Just looked more like their mother.
More like Julia.
A lot older and more haunted.
Same dark blond hair. Same steel-blue eyes that could sear a soul to its bitter core. Eyes that were shaped and colored identically to Darling Cruel's--the only thing that marked Darling as their first cousin.
And it was those eyes that made it hardest of all for Thraix to look at Nero, as they reminded him of everything that had been brutally ripped from him.
Nero's breathing turned ragged. "I thought you were dead."
Thraix shrugged. "We endured."
"We?"
"He married Julia," Trajen said dryly.
Nero gaped. "When?"
"Before she was murdered." Thraix's tone was frigid.
Without a word, Trajen continued on to the ships, leaving Thraix with Nero. Thanks, asshole.
Nero let out a tired sigh. "You hate me as much as my brother does?"
"Don't take it personally. I hate every minsid body. You're really not special."
Nero laughed at his surly tone. "Did anyone else survive?"
"Not that we know."
Nero winced. "Why didn't my brother come to me after he escaped?"
"Same reason I lived alone for decades. In order to survive our hell, we were forced to go Thaumarturgus. You don't ever want to know what that cost us. The price we continue to pay for it. There's a reason our powers don't drain like yours. Why we can do things you and Hadrian can't imagine, including gift powers to others. Tray lives in constant anguish, Nero. Mental and physical. You can't even begin to fathom it."
Nero choked on his own pain, which swelled inside him over those words. That pain reached out to Thraix as he realized just how much the man wanted his family whole.
Damn it.
Nero wasn't an enemy. Like it or not, he was family, and that was something the Scaleras were frightfully short on. And as much as Trajen wanted to deny he was one of them, his connection to their blood was what had him protecting Darling, even when he didn't want to. And since he was related to Darling's mother and not his father, Trajen might not share blood with the Danes, but he still protected them because they were dear to Darling.
"I love my brothers, Thraix, and I loved Julia. I would have given my life for hers. And I would still give it for Trajen. Is there anything I can do to help him?"