Yet he bore the scent of a Katagari warrior. An animal at heart and in base form. She knew the raw, preternatural musk that permeated their breed. It was unlike anything else in the world. And though tinged with something else, it was unmistakable.
This wasn’t a man she was dealing with, but a creature of immense power.
“Like you, princess, I’m something much, much older than those half-Greek by-blows.… Deadlier. And unpredictable.”
“I know you’re not a god.”
He approached her slowly, and while it wasn’t in her to ever retreat, she found herself stepping back to keep from being overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. By the magnitude of his arcane powers that seemed to grow stronger the longer she was here.
“Perhaps, love,” he breathed in her ear with that deep, resonant baritone. “But there are things in this world that even the gods fear.”
And he was definitely one of them. She knew it with every single molecule of her being.
“Falcyn!”
Medea blinked at the sharp tone of her brother’s voice.
The creature in front of her didn’t react to it at all. Other than to give her an odd half smile. He tsked at both her and Urian. “Do you really think to make me heel at your command, lapdog?”
Tall and muscular, and unperturbed by that insult, Urian narrowed his eyes while he rapidly closed the distance between them. His white-blond hair fell loose around his shoulders, accentuating his sharp features as he kept his attention keenly focused on Falcyn, watching his every twitch. Which also told her how lethal and quick this being was.
A fearless, powerful beast himself, Urian was only wary around those who were worthy. He dismissed the rest.
Stepping between them, Urian gave her a bit of breathing room. “I would caution you to remember you’re in a limani.”
Falcyn snorted. “As if I give two shits for Savitar’s laws.” He raked a bitter stare over Urian. “Or you, for that matter. And even less for your boss. So don’t even think of dragging Acheron’s name into this as protection from my wrath. I dare him to say a single word to me … on any matter.”
Urian scowled at his words and bravado, given the fact that Acheron was the final Fate of all. To defy him while knowing his real place in the universe was a special level of stupid and bravery that most lacked. “Is there nothing you fear?”
Falcyn’s gaze went past Urian’s shoulder to something in the crowd.
“Aye, but sadly she’s not here.”
Medea jumped at the deep voice that spoke near her ear. Startled, she turned to see another strange man in the crowded bar. One who stood out as much as Falcyn, but for other reasons. His hair was as pale as her own, if not more so, and his eyes a peculiar lavender shade. Yet for all his paleness, his skin wasn’t white as she’d assumed someone’s with albinism would be. Rather, it was a rich caramel like Falcyn’s.
More than that, his ears held a bit of a point to them. For a moment, given the beauty of his features, she thought he might be fey … Adoni or such. But the way he moved, and given the scent of him, she dismissed the thought.
No, he was more animal than Adoni.
Languid and quick. A rare dichotomy that only a natural-born shapeshifter could accomplish. And like Falcyn, the air around him was rife with preternatural powers that danced for his command. This beast was every bit as powerful. Yet in a different way.
Nor were his powers as dark or sinister. This wasn’t a creature who took pleasure in harm. Indeed, he seemed good-natured.
Falcyn tsked at him. “Now, Blaise, why would you go and bring Xyn into this? Especially given what a sore topic that is?”
Blaise let loose a charming grin. “Felt the need to rankle my big brother. Besides, everyone else fears you so. You need me to even you out.” It wasn’t until he stepped forward with his hand raised to feel his way through them that Medea realized Blaise was blind. “And if you’re through scaring the natives, I’ve got something I need to speak to you about.”
Falcyn sneered. “Rather spend time scaring the natives than listening to your petulant whine.”
“Ah, now, you’re going to hurt my feelings.”
“You don’t have any feelings.”
“Not true. I had a lot of them, until you, Kerrigan, and Illarion shriveled them into oblivion. But I think I managed to salvage one or two. Please, try not to kill those last two off. I might need them one day.”
Falcyn made a rude noise of dismissal. “Those are called hunger pangs.”
Laughing, Blaise shook his head. “Hungry for a kind word, you mean.”
“Well, you won’t be getting it here.” Falcyn gestured toward the stairs as if his brother could see his movements. “So off with you.”
Blaise sighed heavily. “’Fraid not. Must intrude. Can’t wait.”
Falcyn made another sound so deep in his throat that it vibrated through Medea’s body.
Urian pulled her back. “Well, then. We’ll leave you to your argument. Come, big sis. Let’s get out of here before Godzilla and Mothra go at it and we’re caught in the cross fire.”
“Before who and what?”
Urian groaned under his breath. “One day we’ve got to do an all-day movie marathon to catch you up on my references.” And with that, he pulled her toward the stairs.
But Medea couldn’t resist one quick glance back at the stranger whose presence still haunted her. Worse? He continued to watch after her with that penetrating stare like she was a hare he was planning to devour as lunch.
“What are they?” she asked Urian as he led her upstairs to the less crowded area of the bar.
“Blaise is a mandrake. Falcyn … hell if I know. He’s one of the dragon breeds, but not a Were-Hunter.”
“If they’re brothers, he’d be a mandrake, too. Right?”
Urian hesitated. “I don’t think they’re really related. The dragons have an even more peculiar idea of what constitutes family than we do.”
She was so perplexed by that. “But if he’s a dragon and he’s not a mandrake or Were-Hunter, how can he be human?” Those were the only two kinds of pureblood dragons who could take human form.
At least that she knew of, and given the fact she’d walked this earth for more than eleven thousand years, she knew quite a bit about shapeshifters and the preternatural world that had birthed her.
And them.
Especially since her father was one. But his dragon form came from the fact that he was a demigod, not a true shapeshifter. Unlike them, he couldn’t hold his form for long, or live in it.
Urian paused to look from her to the two dragons in the crowd below. “That, Medea, is the question we’ve all asked and no one will answer. All we know is that he’s a bloodthirsty beast who’s best avoided.”
2
“So what is your trauma?”
Blaise snorted derisively at Falcyn’s growled question. “Lack of parental support. Failure to bond. Kerrigan knocking me into one too many walls for lipping off whenever he was in a foul mood, which was pretty much always. Fear of fluffy bunnies, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“Fluffy bunnies?” Falcyn wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question, but it was so out of place for this audacious, lunatic mandrake that he just felt compelled to hear his explanation, even against all common sense.
“Ever seen the movie Bambi? Those little bastards are some strange brew. And don’t get me started on Monty Python’s Holy Grail and that hare-y nightmare.” Blaise visibly shook. “It’s to the point I don’t even want to see that stuffed pink thing Nim carries.”
At the mention of the harmless slug demon, Falcyn rolled his eyes so hard back in his skull, it actually burned. “You’re so effing weird.”
“Oh yeah, ’cause you’re hogging all the normality. Have you ever bothered to look into that abyss, my friend? I promise the pot is calling the kettle twin.”
“Have you a point to this mission, other than to piss me off and insult me? In which case, mission accomplished, but your life is drawing perilously close to its end as a result.”