Thousands of years and a million traveled roads would all end at the Castle of Dark Dreams. At least for one of them. Ganymede didn’t want to be that one. He had something to live for, and his “something” was standing staring at him with those big eyes that said, “If you die, I’ll hunt your ass down and kill you again. Without breaking a nail.”

Ganymede thought about raising a shield, but decided against it. Nothing he could construct quickly would stop Zendig. Besides, Zendig had his own worries. Ganymede doubted his enemy could pull up protection as strong as what he’d just lost. Ganymede crouched, ready to deliver a planet-crushing blow. No talking for him. But before he could gather his power, someone in the back of the hall shouted out.

“You called that Edge person who opened the Castle door your creation. And this one is your first what?”

Zendig looked startled. Ganymede almost smiled. Almost. This is what happened when you talked too much. Eventually you’d say the wrong thing.

Ganymede searched for the speaker. A woman—one of the spies—stood among Zendig’s humans. He prepared to answer her even though he knew Zendig probably wouldn’t allow him to finish. Zendig couldn’t afford to let his people know what he’d done so long ago. If they found out, then he’d have to hunt them down—assuming he came out of this fight on top—and eliminate them before they returned home to tell others. Ganymede opened his mouth to speak.

His father beat him to it. He raised his voice so all could hear. “Zendig has lied to us all these years. Bourne didn’t kidnap our children. Zendig did. He took their memories, their wills, and gave them new purposes—to kill and spread chaos in hopes they would destroy Bourne.”

Ganymede glanced at Sparkle as angry murmurs rose from the humans. She gave him a thumbs-up. But his father wasn’t done.

“He told me to close the last portal his mercenaries came through. I didn’t. It remains open. Go. Now. Spread the word to everyone you know.”

The humans didn’t waste any time. They ran from the room. Ganymede’s father didn’t go with them. He melted into the crowd. Damn. His father wasn’t powerful enough to survive with this bunch. He hoped Dad had the sense to hide until this was all over.

For a moment, Zendig seemed too shocked to act. Then he shouted to his fighters closest to the rear, “Catch them. Kill them.”

Ganymede worried until he heard the muted roar of an engine. One of Zendig’s mercenaries returned to shout, “They took a bus. They’re gone. Should we follow?”

Ganymede smiled. Zendig had a dilemma. If he sent his people after the bus, he’d be short fighters in the hall.

Zendig made his decision. “Get back in here and fight. We’ll catch that bus later.”

Not if Ganymede could help it. Time to make Zendig pay for all those lost years. He stalked the bastard. Did Zendig know he could bring down mountains, raise a tsunami, or trigger a volcano? Probably not. He was too focused on his own amazing self. Well, Ganymede would give him a demonstration, only on a smaller, more compressed scale. Didn’t want to bring the Castle down around them.

It was almost as though Ganymede’s thought jump-started the rest of the hall because the battle exploded with renewed force. He blocked out the shouts and fighting around him to concentrate on his target.

Ganymede sensed the moment Zendig was about to launch his next attack. Bring it. He bared his teeth in a grin that was all, “Yeah, gonna love killing your ass.” A sudden wind whipped around him, buffeting him with what felt like dozens of knife jabs. Agony spiraled through him. He couldn’t let it take him down, though. Couldn’t allow Zendig to get past him to slaughter the others. This was all on him. He ignored the blood trickling down his body, never breaking eye contact with Zendig.

Ganymede raised his arms, holding back the wind while he thrust twisting ropes of fire toward his maker. Before Zendig could repel them, they’d wound around him, binding him in sizzling sparks.

With a roar, Zendig freed himself. And so the fighting continued, attack after attack after attack. And still Ganymede couldn’t find a weapon to stop Zendig. Exhaustion tugged at him. Impossible. He never tired. No enemy ever lasted long enough to tire you. Doubt played in his mind. If he fell, what would happen to Sparkle, to all the others who had put their trust in him?

He dared a quick glance around. Were they winning? Looked like it. At least he could see more of the enemy on the floor than the good guys.

Ganymede blinked and swiped blood from his eyes. Okay, he was seeing things. A second Zendig raced past him yelling to his followers. Something about not letting Bourne escape. A pack of the octopus guys obeyed, scuttling after him as he chased a fake Bourne out the door. Ganymede spotted more of the duplicates spreading confusion among Zendig’s fighters. His enemy should’ve hired smarter mercenaries.

Ganymede dared to hope. The doubles had to be Amaya’s kitsune friends. When had they arrived? He’d lost track of time. Then he looked for Sparkle. She had a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. Bodies sprawled around her. His woman. If they’d had more time to prepare, he would’ve armed everyone. Not that it would’ve done any good. Troublemakers depended on their own powers. Always. They were stubborn that way.

Music? Where? There. In the corner. A bunch of the enemy danced in a circle while Murmur’s music mesmerized them. They’d dance till they died. Having the demon of music on your side had its perks.

Then he lost himself to the battle with Zendig again. No more time to look around, no more time to breathe. And his blood kept flowing.

Ganymede grew weaker. Was that darkness falling or his end nearing? He tried to dig deep, to find that well of strength he’d never needed during his long existence. Maybe there was no freaking well of anything but defeat. He wiped sweat from his forehead and tried to focus on Zendig, but his vision kept blurring.

As if from a distance, he saw Zendig thrust a glowing ball of energy the size of a basketball at him. Ganymede reached for something to counter it and came up empty. The power hit him in the chest. He fell, and wondered in a half-conscious sort of way if the damn thing had gone straight through him. Would he walk around from now on with a giant hole people could see through? He would’ve laughed, but it hurt too much. Get up. You have to get the fuck up.

Then someone stepped over him to stand facing Zendig. Someone with a short skirt and boots with bloody toes. Sparkle.

“Leave my man alone, jerk-wad.”

Zendig sort of swayed back and forth, but it didn’t stop his sneer. “You going to make me?” He laughed. “Won’t ever happen. No mere woman can stop me. Now move aside so I can finish him off, then kill Bourne. After that I can leave this benighted planet forever.”

Ganymede allowed himself a drunken-sounding chuckle even as he winced. That was the wrong tone to take with Sparkle Stardust.

She rose into the air and hovered there. Her hair floated around her, tipped with flickering tongues of flame. She spoke. “Everyone who fights for Zendig should go out to the courtyard. Now. The gargoyles are waiting to have incredible sex with you.” Her voice had a deeper quality to it, and it kind of echoed in the hall.

Ganymede almost laughed. Not funny. Must be too much blood loss. At least she hadn’t sent them out to a bunch of rose bushes.

She began to hum. And as the melody to “Light My Fire” rippled across the room, Zendig’s people fought to get out of the great hall first to begin the orgy. When all of his fighters had deserted him, she stopped humming then drifted to the floor.

Zendig raged. “When did you learn to do that, bitch?”

Zendig glowed with his building power. It exploded from him in a wall of sound that almost deafened Ganymede. He only had time for a silent cry of “No!” before the force of the attack flung Sparkle across the room. She lay in a crumpled heap in front of the fireplace.

Something terrible crawled into Ganymede’s heart. Fear. Terror like he’d never known. She’d be okay. He had to believe that or give up right now. Slowly, agonizingly, he dragged himself to his feet. He locked his knees, trying to keep his legs from collapsing under him. One. More. Shot. That’s all he had in him. Had to finish it now.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his right shoulder followed almost instantly by one on his left. He turned his head to stare. Holgarth’s hand rested on him along with Zane’s. And as he gazed, disbelieving, all the troublemakers and demons in the hall formed a chain, each clasping the shoulder of the one beside him. The vampires—Thorn, Eric, Donna, and Dacian—appeared in the hall. Sundown. When the hell did Dacian get home? They joined the chain.

Holgarth spoke. “We’re here to lend you strength. You’ve always said this was your fight. It’s not. We’ll do this together. Finish him.”

Ganymede stared at Zendig. His enemy seemed puzzled for a moment, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his power for one last blast.

Zendig sneered. “You think a bunch of you getting all touchy-feely will make a difference? I made you,” he roared. “I have more power than all of you combined. I’ll turn this Castle into ashes. Then I’ll find and crush the real Bourne wherever he’s hiding his sorry, cowardly body. After that, I’ll track down those people in their bus and destroy them before they can carry their story home.” He laughed and it gathered steam to become a mad guffaw. “You’re a loser.” He swept his arms wide to encompass the entire hall. “All of you, you hear me? Losers.”

Ganymede countered with, “But you didn’t get Bourne, did you? So that makes you the loser.”

That stopped Zendig’s laughter.

Strength flowed into Ganymede, thick and molten, filling him with power. He drew it to him, forging it into a wall of justice for all those who had suffered at Zendig’s hands. But most of all, he dedicated this to Sparkle Stardust.

He let loose with a concentrated burst of energy that could have destroyed half the planet if he’d chosen to do so. Beyond the flash and boom that brought Ganymede to his knees, beyond the screams from those lending him their strength, beyond Zendig’s cry of disbelief that death had finally found him, Ganymede watched his maker disintegrate into millions of pieces of bloody flesh.

He dropped his head. It was over.

Ganymede spoke to no one. His supply of energy drained, he staggered to where Sparkle lay, fell to his knees, and gathered her into his arms. He rested his cheek against her chest. And waited. And hoped. And promised things he could never deliver to any deity with the power to save her.

Without warning, a portal opened in the middle of the great hall. Bourne, holding Momo and Tuna, strode into the room. He looked around. “What did I miss?”