They skittered out of her hair and flowed down her arms, pooling into her open palms in mists of green light. Silence descended, a sharp, interested quiet.

“So,” her opponent said. Sharp teeth gleamed. “You aren’t so boring, after all.”

Her spiders flew. The gargoyle deflected, raising his bracer shielded arms, but he could not defend against all of them. They landed on his face, and skittered into his hair. He grimaced, lips drawing back in a snarl and he rushed her.

“They bite,” he growled in an angry, guttural tone.

She refused to engage him. She’d play keep away until the poison on their tiny feet did its work. “They weren’t just going to say hello.”

He slowed.

“It won’t kill you,” she said as he fell to one knee. “And the effects are only a few hours. I’ll call them off if you forfeit.”

He stared at her. “Shit. Fucking animage. Lord, I’m satisfied. Forfeit. Call these damn things off.”

* * *

Amnan stiffened when the gargoyle warrior approached her several minutes later. She watched him walk. Unsteadily, but it was still a walk, and made mental note to tinker with her formulas. Evidently crafting a poison for humans wasn’t the same as for non-humans. He nodded at the dragon stiffly before turning to Serephone.

“What’s the poison you used?”

Her lips curved. “A little something I cooked up in my big, black, kettle.”

Amnan snorted.

The fae nodded again. “I’ll watch you with interest. Take the oath, girl. He’ll halt the tournament if you do. There are some, who would rather see you dead.”

* * *

The next round almost killed her. This fae was female, slender, and fought with a set of blades that cackled in her head, their edges glowing red. Serephone truly believed the woman was trying to skewer her. So far the trials had been one, big, nasty gauntlet; the purpose to put her thoroughly through her paces and maybe pay her back for the insult of refusing to take the oath like a good girl.

Evervaine made a remark before the next round. “Her fae blood seems the dominant, why is she so stubborn to take the oath? Stupid child.”

Dawnthorne called for another recess and Serephone was allowed to limp back to her room to tend her wounds. Amnan had been required to remain behind, in discussion with Dawnthorne.

The blades had caught her ribs twice, thin slices that hurt like a bitch and were bleeding more than she liked. She wouldn’t be surprised if the steel had been treated with a substance to prevent coagulation. She stripped down to her bra and tended her wounds while sitting on the bed, finishing up and donning a clean shirt when the door opened and Etienne walked in.

“Get out,” she snapped.

He ignored her, shutting the door. “Your mother’s temper doesn’t look good on you.” He surveyed her coolly from where he stood. “When you are approached by a potential ally, you should always allow them to speak or risk incurring a disadvantage in your dealings with them.”

“Not your ally. Enemy.”

“Don’t be a child.” Etienne came forward. “I want to speak with you.”

“Is this the scene, where you insist you aren’t a bastard and a scoundrel, after all?” She was almost too tired to maintain the sarcasm—but not quite. Even looking at his face burned her gut.

“Can you heal your wound?”

“Go away.”

Her father sighed. “I was two years over the five year permission I had to be gone, Serephone. They would have come looking for me eventually, and they would have found your mother and your sisters. They’ll be brought here eventually, it’s inevitable. But I wanted you to have some kind of a life first.”

“So you cheated on my mother and abandoned us for our own good?”

His expression didn’t change. “What would Kai have done if I told her I was fae, and oathed to obey the head of my Line to the point, where I may not even choose where I will live? What if I had told her Dawnthorne was coming for our family, to take her daughters into service to our blood?”

Kailigh would have stocked her arsenal and gone to war.

Etienne saw the answer in her face. “Exactly. The outcome would have been her death, or imprisonment. So, I did the one thing guaranteed to make your mother let me go, and in a way that wouldn’t break her heart.”

“Adultery doesn’t break a woman's heart?”

“What do you prefer? Her anger, or her pain?”

She wasn’t ready to forgive him. His reason might be true, it might be a lie. Even if it was true, it didn’t make her pain any less real. And it didn’t make him any less an ass. He never should have married and had kids in the first place.

He nodded. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Serephone. But I am not your enemy. Why did you come to Seattle?”

“Your Lord is involved in the flesh trade. Cin was almost kidnapped to be used as brothel meat.”

Etienne stared at her. “What proof?”

She told him, explanation terse, describing Ruthus, his men, the fight and finally discovering Dawnthorne's glyph on the hands of the prisoners.

Etienne’s eyes were narrowed. “Dawnthorne does not deal in that trade,” he said, voice cold, and firm.

“You saying Ruthus acted on his own?”

“No, he was never supposed to—”

“Supposed to what?” She scowled at him. “So, you know about it?”

Her so-called father looked irritated. “He was supposed to watch only.”

“Well, clearly he adjusted his mandate,” Serephone said. She didn’t believe for a minute that Ruthus Adjrius had gone rogue, usurping Dawnthorne’s resources to run his own venture. That would take balls.

Etienne sighed. “I’ve deliberately turned attention away from those trade lines over the years to avoid any inadvertent outing of you and your sisters. What did you think you were going to do, Serephone?” His expression was displeased.

“Kill Dawnthorne.”

Etienne laughed. “I suspected crossing my blood with Kailigh’s would result in strange children. It’s probably best I didn’t have a son. I will speak with Dawnthorne.” His expression soured. “I’m certain I am once more in favor as you have not embarrassed us with today’s performance.”

Because that was her goal in life, not to embarrass her fae relatives.

* * *

Anissa’s absence was explained when Serephone returned to the circle. Her sister has changed clothing and was now dressed like one of the warriors, a bladed staff at her side.

“I’ll fight these last rounds with you,” Anissa said when Serephone approached.

“The last nearly killed me.”

“We know. You’ve lasted longer than anticipated. I did not think Natali would forfeit for you, but you must have impressed her.”

“The last round?”

“Yes.”

The sun was beginning to set and gas torches were set out around the circle. The fae looked sinister in the flickering light, the sharp bones of their faces stark and eerie. They claimed she had enough of their blood that it mattered, but Serephone didn’t think so. She was refreshingly normal.

She glanced over at Dawnthorne, waiting for him to call the next few rounds, and stilled when she saw his expression. The curly haired gate guard spoke with him, and the Lord’s gaze rested on Serephone’s face. He lifted a hand, beckoning.

She approached, Amnan returning from whatever shadow he’d been skulking in to fall in at her side.

“Are you well?” he asked, mouth close to her ear. “They wouldn’t let me come to you—probably afraid I’ll help you escape somehow.”

“I'm fine. I got bandaged up.”

He touched the back of her hand in response and opened their bond just a bit so his encouragement could warm her. “Sere, we need to renew the bonding spell soon. It’s starting to fade.”

“I thought it was permanent?”

“No, not…yet.”

She nodded and then they were at the foot of the dais.

“It appears we have unexpected guests,” Dawnthorne said. “You will both be pleased when I admit them. Though you, dragon, perhaps not so pleased.”

Amnan said nothing. Then he stiffened, turning on his heel. Serephone followed his movement, and blinked.

“Mother.”

Kailigh glanced at Serephone, a quick, thorough look that raked her daughter from head to toe. Her mother was dressed all in plum, a long skirt and jacket with a white blouse underneath, the collar decorated with obsidian buttons. She looked like one of the ladies-who-lunch, except for the firm dismissal of the current pastel craze.

“Serephone.” Kailigh strode forward and wrapped her in a hug. “Why are you in a fight? Did you start it?”

“It’s not really a fight.” Serephone glanced at Maddugh, frowning. Why had he allowed Kai to come here? Didn’t he know better?

Her stepfather’s return look was his neutral amused expression, but she saw the flash of anger and irritation in his eyes.

Maddugh turned to Dawnthorne. “If my family and I don’t send word to Nahasha by morning, her court will descend on yours.”

Dawnthorne smiled faintly. “But surely you would like your wife to renew her acquaintance with an old friend?”

Serephone sighed. Kailigh glanced at her, brow raised, then froze when Etienne stepped into her line of vision. “Lawrence?”

“Hello, Kai,” he said. “Serephone acts just like you. But she hasn’t embarrassed us yet. Congratulations.”

It didn’t sound like congratulations.

“Kailigh?” Maddugh growled.

Kailigh visibly gathered her composure. “Maddugh—forgive me, I’m a bit surprised. This is my ex-husband, Lawrence.”

“I am called Etienne here,” he said.

“What?” Kailigh stared at him. “That’s a ridiculous…never mind. Wait—you are fae?” She looked at Serephone.

“You are as well, Kai,” Etienne said. “Your dragon shouldn’t have brought you here. But you can’t expect higher level reasoning from wyrms.”

“You have clever words,” Maddugh said. “I wonder if you talk so much on the battlefield, two-legger?”

“Maddugh,” Kailigh said.

Maddugh glared at her. “Are you defending him?”

“Really?”

Serephone winced. She knew that tone of voice. Maddugh was going to get hell when he and Kai were alone again. Her mother did not like being embarrassed in public.

“As amusing as this family reunion is, we must proceed,” Evervaine said. “Aethan, congratulations. It appears you have another spawn in your net.”

Dawnthorne glanced at Kailigh. “She isn’t my Line.”

Evervaine studied her mother. “She belongs to someone’s Line. And if we must determine whose, she should remain under your supervision for now. You have the closest claim as she is the mother of your kin.”

“No one has a claim on my wife but me,” Maddugh said. His shoulders swelled, his skin dappling with the color and pattern of his scales.

“Do not make me contain you,” Dawnthorne warned.

Maddugh smiled. “I am no wingling. You can try to contain me, fae. You won’t be able to try very long.”

She looked at Amnan, who stood, arms crossed over his chest, a satisfied expression on his face. “Someone is going to get killed,” Serephone said. Her mother would be reasonable, even if the men just wanted to flash their fangs and fight.

“Maddugh, this may not be the most diplomatic way to resolve our situation,” Kailigh said.

“You know he won’t let Sere leave?” Amnan asked. “She’s bound to the grounds unless he says otherwise.”

Kailigh’s calm temper vanished. She turned on Dawnthorne. “What?”

“What the hell did you do that for?” Serephone snarled at Amnan. “We’re outnumbered.”

“You’ve never seen my father fight. We aren’t the ones who are outnumbered.”

“Another dragon, Mommy!”

Everyone froze as a childish voice rang out in glee. Serephone glanced towards the sound to see Iona skipping across the lawn towards them all.

Anissa swore under her breath. “Her nanny must have lost her again.”

“The nanny is fired,” Dawnthorne snapped.

Anissa strode towards Iona, grabbing her hand to pull her to a halt. Iona protested. “I want to see the dragon! Auntie Serephone!”

“Auntie?” Kailigh asked, turning her head to stare hard at Anissa.

“I have an older sister, from what I’m told,” Serephone said, watching as her mother then looked at Etienne, eyes narrowing.

“She was already an adult when I met you,” Etienne said.

“You never told me you had a daughter.”

“I never told you many things. You didn’t need to know.”

Kailigh stilled. “You son of a bitch.”

Her mother had to have some bitterness, some anger, despite being newly married to a man she loved. Etienne had abandoned her with three children, and they’d never heard from him again. And she’d loved him once, even if her love had been foolish.

Maddugh proved that no matter how jealous he was, he wasn’t a complete ass. He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Kailigh’s shoulder, turning her away from Etienne, speaking quietly in her ear. After a moment her mother’s tension drained, and she nodded, not looking at her ex-husband again.

“Are we done?” Dawnthorne asked.