My son is the Crom. Falcyn cursed himself for the spell that had gone all kinds of wrong.
In all his evil glory, Maddor reared his black horse before them. Pawing in the air, the horse screamed and blew its demonic fire. Maddor uncoiled his whip and cracked it at Falcyn.
Instinctively, he grabbed the bony spines that wrapped around his forearm, biting deep in his flesh, and leaving a bleeding welt. It took everything he had not to snatch his son from the back of the horse and drag him over the ground to beat sense into him.
No one attacked Falcyn with impunity.
No one except his son and grandson. For them alone he would bleed.
Medea saw the bloodlust in Falcyn’s eyes. She fully expected him to jerk the Crom off and beat him down. So when he let go of the whip and stepped back, her jaw went slack.
From what little she knew of her dragon, retreat and mercy weren’t in him.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I was only trying to save him.” Falcyn’s voice was barely audible.
Meanwhile the Crom made no move to leave and go after the ones Brogan had named earlier. “Why can’t I kill you?”
“You’re not tasked with it.” Brogan approached him slowly. “The Black Crom can only take the lives I decree. No others.”
He started to charge her.
The horse threw him to the ground before it snorted fire and shook its head to let him know it would have no part in what he’d intended. Maddor rolled and landed in an undignified heap.
Brogan scoffed as Maddor rose up in front of her and again recoiled off an invisible wall that prevented him from assaulting her. “You can’t harm me in this realm. At least not physically. It’s why I wanted out of the other one so badly. You can only do me harm in our home. I’m your voice, though how it is that you can now speak on your own is beyond me. No Crom should have that power, in any world.”
Lombrey solidified in front of them. “When you broke the seal, you mingled their lives. He’s neither a mandrake nor a true Dullahan now.”
“He’s other … like me.” Urian sighed.
Nodding, Lombrey bit his lip. “So it would seem.”
Maddor cursed. “I want my body back so that I can kick your ass, old man!”
“And people in hell want ice water.” Brandor smirked at him. “Guess we’re all screwed.”
Maddor lunged at him.
Snorting, Brandor sidestepped his attack and tripped him since he couldn’t harm Brandor either. “Though I can’t say as I blame you. ’Cause no offense, Maddie, you looked a lot better with a head on your shoulders than you do like this. You were always a freak, but never more so than what you are right now as you search about for that little head on a whip.”
Falcyn grabbed Maddor to stop his advance as he moved for Brandor’s throat. “I’ll get this straightened out.”
“How? You’re the one who screwed it up!”
“I am, but I’m the best chance you have.”
With a fierce scoff, Maddor shoved him away. “And why would you help me? Why didn’t you just kill me?”
Medea wasn’t sure which of them was the most stunned by his question.
Falcyn snapped his head back as if he’d been physically slapped. “You’re my son. Why wouldn’t I?”
Now it was Maddor’s turn to act stunned—at least that was what she assumed. Though to be honest, it was hard to tell when he had no head or facial expressions to judge by. Rather, he stood there, stock-still. “What? Bullshit! You’re not my father! You’re lying!”
Falcyn was completely baffled. “You said Morgen told you everything.”
“Aye! She said that you murdered my mother for protecting me, and left me to die!”
Falcyn’s jaw went slack. Those words cold-cocked him. “I killed your mother when she came to gloat to me about selling you, our child, my son, to Morgen to torture me over what she’d done to you! Think about it. How else would I’ve had access to her, since I’ve been banned from this realm since before you were born?”
Deflating before their very eyes, Maddor stepped back in uncertainty. “I-I don’t understand.”
“It’s true, Maddor. At least I think you’re Maddor. Falcyn sent me here to watch over you. I’m the one who goaded her into going to Falcyn, hoping he’d be able to get to you and help you out of here. I didn’t count on his overreaction that would result in her death. Guess I should have.”
That unexpected, sweet, lilting voice went through Falcyn like a knife.
No.
It couldn’t be.…
His heard pounding, he turned to see Sarraxyn. Pale and standing on unsteady feet, she had one arm braced against the wall nearest her.
“Xyn? Is it really you?”
She gave him a wan smile. “Greetings, brother.”
His own limbs shaking, he crossed the room to gather her into his arms. “How?”
“I don’t know. One minute I was frozen, and then I was here. Wherever this is.”
Closing his eyes, Falcyn fisted his hand in her long, flame-red hair that parted to show off her pointed ears. Her translucent, vibrant green gaze seared him. And she was still one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
She clutched at his back. “I know.” Kissing his cheek, she pulled back to stare at Maddor. “He is your father, Maddor. Just as Blaise is your son.”
That sucked every bit of the air from the room and had the same impact as a nuclear bomb detonating in their midst.
Blaise stumbled back. “W-w-w-what?”
Falcyn ground his teeth at the way she told him something he’d have been much more delicate with.
Xyn nodded. “I was there when you were born. Your mother was furious, thinking your albinism had to do with Max’s curse.”
“What curse?”
Falcyn winced as she unwittingly spilled the beans. “I never told Blaise the truth, Xyn.” For a reason—as the last thing he’d wanted was to hurt him.
Her jaw went slack. “I’m so sorry. I assumed he knew.”
Falcyn shook his head. “By the time I learned about his birth, he was grown. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then. Thanks, sister. You were always good at ratting me out.”
Maddor sat down. “Blaise is my son? How?”
Xyn sighed. “Ormarra. She hid her pregnancy from you and was hoping to parlay Blaise’s birth to her advantage.”
“When I was born deformed, she tried to kill me.”
Brogan moved to hold Blaise. “You’re not deformed!” Her low tone was punctuated by Falcyn’s shout of the same words.
“And I killed her for her actions against you,” Xyn said. “Everything you were told, Blaise, was a lie concocted by Morgen to hurt you. You were still wet from cracking open your egg when I took you to Emrys to raise. The only truth you knew was that your father was the leader of the mandrakes.”
He’d just assumed it was the mandrake before Maddor, because only a tiny handful of fey knew Maddor was the first of their breed.
Another lie Morgen had kept so that no one would know she was related to their race.
Maddor growled at Xyn. “You should have told me about him!”
“I was planning to once I knew he was safe, but Morgen caught wind of my intentions and trapped me here before I had the chance.”
With a fierce roar, Maddor started for Xyn, only to be stopped by some unseen force.
“You can’t harm her,” Brogan reminded him. “I haven’t given you her name.”
“I hate all of you!” he roared.
Falcyn flinched as Medea moved to stand next to him so that she could offer him comfort. But the guilt he felt over his son didn’t last long. It gave way to a profound fury while he raked his gaze over Maddor’s former dragon body and then his new one as the Black Crom. “How dare you! Feel free to hate me all you want. I deserve it. Blaise, however, has never done anything to deserve your animosity for him. He’s your son. One you’ve treated like hell and mocked over the centuries for no reason whatsoever. You owe him an apology.”
Maddor scoffed at Falcyn. “You’re daring to lecture me on parenthood? Seriously?”
“Yeah, and I’ll bust your ass, boy! Don’t ever think I can’t take you in a fight. I promise you, I’ve eaten much tougher hides than yours and used their scales for shoes. If you want to act like a child, then I’ll treat you like one.”
The real Crom made a noise deep inside the dragon’s body.
Falcyn turned toward him at the sound, curious as to what was causing it. “What’s going on, Brogan? He about to spew?”
She shook her head. “It’s the strife between the two of you. It feeds him. Makes him—”
The Crom broke free and stood up.
“Stronger,” she finished with a squeak.
Blaise took her hand and pulled her behind him. “What’s he doing now?”
“Not sure.” Falcyn put his hand out to stop Medea from engaging the beast as she moved in for an attack.
Because the Crom wasn’t the only dragon rising.
All of them were, and he wasn’t sure what that signified. But with their luck, it wasn’t a good thing.
“Maddor?” Falcyn glanced to his son. “You want to return to your real body?”
His whip sizzled as he turned a slow circle to survey the number of original dragons who were now a little more than just plain pissed off. And since they had no other target, they were circling the only enemy they found in the room.
Them.
The whole group. And that included their mandrake leader that they couldn’t identify as a dragon since he was in the Crom’s body and had no head.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
Falcyn couldn’t blame him there. Judging by the mood of the newly animated dragons, anything not one of their scaly clan was about to get eaten.
Summoning his powers, Falcyn felt his hands heating up as he began the process of reversing what he’d done to change out Maddor’s soul.
Lombrey rose up in an effort to block the dragons, but they passed right through his noncorporeal form.
Urian rolled his eyes. “Good to be a shadow, huh? Makes me wish I was one.” He drew a sword and prepared to attack.
And just as Falcyn began the incantation, a bright light flashed near them. It was intense and searing. So much so that it temporarily blinded him.
Until his sight cleared enough to see the last creature he’d have ever expected to appear in their midst.
Simi Parthenopaeus.
Dressed in a short purple skirt, black-and-red-striped leggings, and a matching corset, she was the Dark-Hunter Acheron’s … something. No one was quite sure what, and Acheron was never big on giving details, on Simi or anything else.
She drew up short as she surveyed everyone around her. Her red horns sprouted on top of her head as a tail came out from underneath her short skirt. A set of leathery bat wings sprang out, letting him know the Charonte Goth demon was ready to battle. Otherwise, her wings would have been of soft black and red feathers.
Urian’s eyes widened. “Simi? What are you doing here?”
“Akri done told the Simi that you’d be acting all weird and funky lately, and that the Simi should be keeping her eyeball on you, Akri-Uri. So … your heart rate picked up during my commercial break. Since I knew you wouldn’t be with no heifer cow-like redheaded goddess creature doing things that make the Simi go blind, I thought you be troubled. So then I thought, Simi, you best be checking on that old ex-Daimon to make sure he okay and not about to get et by something not friendly.”
She scowled as she put her finger to her cheek to consider her words. “No, that be wrong. Be in trouble.” She grinned widely, flashing her fangs. “You in trouble, Akri-Uri? Can the Simi eat your troubles? ’Cause I don’t think these dragonlies be on the Simi no-eat list. Pretty sure Akri won’t mind if the Simi eats them up.” She bit her lip with a childish enthusiasm that almost made Falcyn smile. Especially as she reached into her coffin backpack and pulled out a bib and a bottle of barbecue sauce to prepare for her meal.
The moment she did, the dragons actually stood down. Some even gulped audibly.
And that made Maddor nervous as hell. “What’s going on?”
Xyn laughed. “No one is dumb enough to tangle with a hungry Charonte. Don’t you know?”
Simi gasped. “Say it no so! The Simi so-o-o-o-o hungry! It been a whole twenty minutes since the Simi ets her last diamond.…” She pouted as she turned around, looking for a meal.
As she stepped forward, the dragons stepped back.
“Yeah!” Urian blustered at them. “That’s right! I’ve got a Charonte here and I’m not afraid to unleash her. Hah!”
A dragon sneezed beside him, blowing out fire that came a little too close to Urian.
Urian dashed to Simi’s side, putting her between them. “Are you fireproof, Sim?”
“Bomb proof, too.” She belched and shot out a stream of fire that caused several dragons to scramble for cover. “See!”
“Ah, you bunch of hatchlings.” With his hands on his hips, Falcyn finished putting Maddor back into his body.
The moment the Crom was himself again, he picked up his whip and went straight to Brogan.
They all tensed in expectation of what he intended to do with her, especially Blaise.
Brogan held her hand up to let them know that it was all right. After a few seconds, she nodded. “Peace to you, Crom.”
With a curt jerk of his coat, he flashed himself onto the back of his horse and vanished.
“What did he say?” Blaise asked.
She smiled warmly. “That he never wants to be a dragon again. You can keep your smelly old body.”
Blaise snorted. “Can’t blame him there.”
Her eyes twinkling, she took his hand. “And he said he’d see about my list that I gave him. I’d hate to be Morgen right now.”
“Not too sure I want to be us.” Medea glanced around at the restless dragons, who were still eyeballing them a little too closely for her happiness.
Xyn held her hands out in an arc. “How long have we slept?”
“Centuries,” Blaise and Falcyn said simultaneously.
An unhappy murmur ran through them.
“Simi eat them now since they all grumbly?” Her wings twitched with expectation.
The dragons quieted immediately.
Medea laughed. “Nice to know you don’t just scare Daimons, Simi.”
Simi pressed her finger to her lips and cocked her head to an adorable expression. Yeah, that made no sense to Falcyn. How could such a lethal creature be so uncommonly charming? The dichotomy of the Goth demon had never failed to amaze or surprise him.
She scowled, then smiled at Medea. “The Simi knows you! I’s seens you lots and lots. You’re the evil princess who libs with the Simi’s akra in Kalosis!”
“She’s also my sister.”
Simi gasped at Urian’s words. Then caught herself. “Oh yeah. I should have … but wait. Your daddy is fake-akri.” She pressed her hands to her eyebrows. “The Simi is so confuseled!”
Urian laughed. “So am I most days.”
Sobering, he gently pulled one of her hands down until she opened her eyes to look at him. “It’s just like your daddy, Simi. I was taken out of my mother’s womb before I was born and put into the belly of another. So the Apollite who birthed me wasn’t really my mother. And Stryker wasn’t really my father. Styxx is my father and Bethany is my real mom.”
“Ah! Like Simi you’re adaptable!”
Urian’s grin widened. “Yeah.”
“Wait…” Brandor scowled. “Does she mean adopted?”
“No, silly!” Arms akimbo, Simi rolled her eyes. “Even though we both were adopted, the Simi meant adaptable, ’cause Akri-Uri had to libs with people not his people. He not really a Daimon, he a demigod. Which is better. Sometimes, anyway.” She tsked as she looked back at Urian. “I’m sorry, Akri-Uri. That why you have sadness besides Phoebe-sadness?”
His eyes darkened. “No, Sim. Mostly I just have Phoebe sadness.”
She held her barbecue sauce out toward him. “Wanna eat a dragon? Make you feel all better. Give you warm and fuzzies in the belly.”
And that succeeded in driving the dragons toward the shadows and Lombrey into a fit.
“No! No! No! You’re not to hide in my domain! Get out, mangy beasts!”
Brandor cleared his throat to disguise his laughter. “You know, with all this noise, Morgen is bound to realize what’s happened. We might want to think about getting out of here before she sends something or someone to investigate.”
Falcyn nodded to his sister. “Granted, she should be a little preoccupied with the Crom after her, you still should take them to my island. Just to be safe.”
She arched a brow at his order. “All of them? You really plan to tolerate us in your personal space?”
He tried not to be agitated at the thought of that many encroaching on his territory, but … “It’ll be the safest place for them.”
Xyn kissed his cheek. “Love you.”
Falcyn tried not to let those words weaken him. But they always did. Only his sister had ever said that to him, and meant it. “You, too.”
She scoffed at his response. “I live for the day, Veles, when you can say that word without choking on it.” And with that, she gathered the dragons and left.
All except Maddor.
“Aren’t you joining them?”
“How can I?” His tone was as bitter as the light in his eyes. “I’m bound to Morgen. As are all mandrakes. Thanks to you. Bastard.”
Falcyn cursed himself for not remembering that. “I should have left you in the Crom’s body.”
“I didn’t want to be there.” There was no missing the fury in his voice.
“Maddor—”
He brushed past Falcyn. “Don’t say anything. There’s nothing left between us.” His eyes betrayed his torment as he neared Blaise. “I should never have tried to kill you. That was wrong of me. Had I known you were mine then, I would have protected you.” With those whispered words, he vanished.
“What kind of apology was that?” Falcyn wanted to beat his son. Yet he couldn’t blame him. Not really. It was his own ass, and Max’s, he wanted to thrash most.
Blaise sighed. “For Maddor, it was major. Believe me. That’s as close to an apology as I’ve ever heard him come.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t believe you’ve kept this secret for so long. Damn.”
“It was never easy.” Falcyn braced himself as he asked the question he couldn’t avoid. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”
“I don’t know.… Eighty.”
Falcyn winced.
“But strangely, not at you.”
That shocked him. “How can you not be mad at me?”
“Don’t know. I want to be. I feel that I should be, but then I remember all the times you’ve been there, and … I still want to kick your ass.”
Falcyn snorted. “I am sorry.”
Simi pursed her lips. “Don’t be so sad, dragon people.” Her wings rippled, then feathered as she walked over to Blaise to hug him.
Needing comfort, Falcyn slid his hand into his pocket where he kept his dragonstone.
His heart stopped as he realized that Maddor hadn’t left empty-handed.
“What is it?” Medea asked.
“That bastard.… Maddor stole my dragonstone!”