Andres’ eyes were colder than anything Draven could imagine. There would be no mercy from him.
Ninfa spoke again, and a thunderous roar followed her words. Draven wanted to look, to make sure she hadn’t been harmed, but he was afraid to take his focus off Andres.
Andres flicked a hand at Titus and Titus tumbled onto his butt. “Get up, and I will ignore Tokokuen’s order not to harm you.”
“Stay down.” Draven dragged his gaze from Andres to Titus. “Please, Titus.” He wouldn’t be able to fight Andres half as well if he were watching out for Titus.
Andres flinched as another roar filled the cave, or room—Draven hadn’t paid any attention to where they were. It didn’t matter. Getting Titus to safety was the priority, and making sure Riveen and Ninfa escaped, too.
“Enough waiting. I have waited over fifty years for my revenge.” Andres flicked his wrist and the net vanished.
Draven put himself between Andres and Riveen. “Leave everyone else alone. This is—”
Andres bared his teeth. “This is about you, and your brother, who delighted in my death. Do you know what it felt like, to be torn into pieces, the pain and fear, the regrets…?” He shook his head slowly. “But you will.”
Draven braced himself as Andres stepped forward. The kaftan-like thing he wore flowed with his movement. Draven never even saw the move coming, didn’t know he’d been hit until he shot sideways, and pain bloomed hot across his cheek.
Then Riveen yelled, and Draven scrambled up, stunned from the impact when he’d landed on the ground. The slimy surface was erratic, and he slid more than once as he tried to get to Riveen.
Riveen tackled Andres—or tried to. Andres barely moved. He grinned as he grabbed Riveen’s hair and jerked his head back.
Draven bellowed just as Andres’ mouth opened and a nightmarish tongue slithered out. He saw Titus moving cautiously to the right, attention locked on Andres.
Riveen slammed his fists against Andres’ sides. “Fuck you!”
Draven slipped and crashed into Andres. He clutched at Andres’ arm and shoulder, hoping to topple him over.
Andres thrust him away, sending Draven backward and onto his ass again.
Titus crept around to behind Andres but was still several feet away.
There was no way for Draven to tell Titus to get back without giving away his position.
Behind him, Draven heard the sound of flesh striking flesh. Whatever that bright-light-bearing creature was, Ninfa had to be fighting it.
Andres laughed and gripped Riveen by the throat. “I am not human, as you have surely figured out. I was less than the least of your demigods, a blood-diluted bastard with hardly any power. And you killed me.” He shook Riveen, using his hold on Riveen’s neck to lift him inches off the ground before rattling him. “I suppose some might think you did me a favor, because Tokokuen favored me and brought me to him.”
Draven didn’t know who the fuck Tokokuen was, but he’d guess the fucking awful light was him. “Leave Riveen alone! He was protecting me!”
Andres squeezed, and Riveen kicked, clawing at Andres’ wrist and hand. “No.”
Draven used every ounce of his strength to throw himself at Andres.
Andres brought his other hand around and pointed. Whatever he’d planned to do was interrupted by Titus using his linked hands like a weapon and slamming them against the side of Andres’ head.
Titus yelled, and Andres’ eyes went wide. Draven collided with him just as Andres let go of Riveen. Together, Draven and Andres tumbled down. Draven twisted and let Andres carry the brunt of the fall.
Andres’ shout was full of fury and hatred. Draven felt it as Andres’ breath gushed over his face.
Whatever Andres was, he had power and it wasn’t of the human or shifter variety. Draven punched and kicked—he didn’t fight fair, and didn’t intend to against anyone trying to kill his loved ones.
You’re not going to win! Draven would have said it, but Andres hit his throat, and breathing was suddenly not possible.
Andres bellowed, and Draven managed to suck in some air as Andres’ hair was yanked hard enough to pull his body upward.
Draven saw Riveen holding two handfuls of black hair now detached from Andres’ head.
Then Titus came rushing over with a short copper dagger in his hand. “Here! That snake-woman tossed it to me!”
Andres bucked, and hit Draven in the stomach. Black dots appeared in his vision and nausea welled up, threatening to make him vomit in the middle of the fight. Draven gulped and wheezed as Riveen kicked Andres’ arm. Titus handed the knife to Draven, and he had just enough time to note that the blade wasn’t very long before Riveen screamed.
Draven stood, doubling over though he tried not to. Riveen’s left arm was lumpy, broken, he realized, and Andres was laughing as he wrapped his hands around Riveen’s neck.
Draven stumbled forward, trying to hold the dagger up. He didn’t see how the blade could cause a fatal blow unless he hit a major artery.
But maybe he could distract Andres long enough for Riveen and Titus to get to safety.
Although nowhere would be safe from Andres, nowhere would be out of reach.
Whatever kind of world they’d been dragged into kept screwing with Titus’ head. He’d been hurt, then healed in seconds. He’d been bound, then freed without a touch. There was some kind of freakishly powerful blob of white light that Ninfa was fighting, and Andres, who’d been killed so long ago, was trying to kill Draven and Riveen—and probably Titus, but right now, Andres wasn’t even looking at him.
No, Andres was killing Riveen, squeezing the life out of him as Draven tried to intervene.
The copper dagger had a blade that was maybe four inches long. Titus doubted it’d do much damage to Andres—after all, he’d already died once, and here he was again. Regardless, he had to help stop Andres. Titus wasn’t eager to die. If he did so today, at least he’d go out trying to save the people he loved.
Titus roared and barreled toward Andres and Riveen. Draven was coming up behind Andres, and Titus hoped to draw Andres’ focus.
Andres glanced at him but didn’t release Riveen.
Riveen sagged, and Titus, afraid he was dead, yelled with all the fear and anger in him. “Andres!” All other words failed him as he leapt, or tried to, sliding wildly over a slick spot—but he flailed and slammed against Andres and Riveen. The impact jarred him through and through.
Andres tossed Riveen aside like he was a bag of trash and turned on Titus. He grabbed Titus by the neck, and Titus flushed with panic at the tightening grip cutting off his air.
He fought and though it was only seconds, it felt longer until Andres shrieked, the sound tearing through Titus’ brain like an ice pick. Andres let go, and Titus fell to the ground, gasping, his vision hazed. Something splattered close to him and he recoiled as the coppery scent of blood hit his nostrils. He blinked and could make out Draven pulling the dagger from Andres’ neck as Andres screamed again and slapped his hands over the wound.
Draven raised the dagger, and a bolt of white light struck it. Draven yelped, and his entire body shook, the light seeming to enter into him, making him glow.
“No! Draven!” Titus shaded his eyes as best he could even as he cried out for Draven.
Andres let loose a sound unlike anything Titus had ever heard. He dropped to his knees, more blood leaking out from under his hands.
Ninfa morphed into something not human, not bird—and not harpy, but a combination that was terrifying. Her talons were copper, as was her beak. Brown liquid oozed from a dozen wounds on her wings and torso, but she moved with a speed that was astounding as she flew into the brightest part of the light.
Titus had to close his eyes then. His brain throbbed and even with his eyes closed, there was such a bright wave of light that he feared he would be blinded.
He scrambled up onto his knees, then to his feet. He had to get to Draven, had to help him fight Andres. I can’t lose hi
m. I can’t lose Draven. I can’t!
“Titus, help me,” he heard Riveen say from his left. “Help me save him!”
Titus turned and opened his eyes enough to see Riveen trying to get up, arm broken, neck bruised. He wasn’t far away, only a few feet. Titus stretched out an arm to him, took a step closer.
Riveen grabbed on, and Titus hoisted him upright. There was no time to formulate a plan.
“Grab him.” That was all Titus could manage as he pivoted, slid, then steadied himself just long enough to get his footing. He had to take a peek at Draven, get his position in mind, then Titus rushed toward him, hoped he was in the right spot—or close to it— and he swiped up, aiming for where he thought the dagger was.
He found it with his palm, and pain seared his hand as he sliced it open.
And many things happened at once.
The bright light dimmed to a bearable level.
Ninfa cawed, speaking words that were unintelligible to Titus.
Andres sobbed loudly.
Draven was frozen for a moment, mouth open, eyes wide, expression lax, then he crumpled before Titus could reach him.
Riveen slid to his knees beside Titus. The ground shook and Riveen called out Titus’ name.
Titus turned his head just in time to see Andres coming at him.
But Andres had both hands on his neck, and Titus wasn’t afraid. He kicked out, catching Andres in the stomach.
Andres grunted and whether it was an automatic response or something else, he moved his hands off his neck.
The copper dagger shot past Titus and was embedded in the center of Andres’ throat a split-second later.
Andres collapsed without a sound.
The light dimmed even more, and Titus scrambled over to Draven. His eyes were closed now.
“He’s alive,” Riveen scraped out before Titus could even ask. “He’s breathing. Andres isn’t. Neither is whatever he brought with him here.”
“It is done,” Ninfa said, squatting by Draven’s head. “Andres and his demigod lover Tokokuen are no more.” She touched Draven’s forehead and began to chant.
Titus would have questions later, but for now, all he wanted was to hold Draven and hear his voice. The sob took him by surprise as he bent over to press his cheek to Draven’s.
He felt the magic—or whatever it was—Ninfa was pouring into Draven, felt the healing strength of it.
“It is enough,” she murmured. “I have no more strength, but it is enough.”
Draven took a deep, shuddering breath. Titus sat up and watched him open his eyes.
“Ti—” Draven coughed, and Titus pressed a finger to Draven’s lips.
“I’m here. Riveen’s here, Ninfa’s—” Titus blinked. She wasn’t there. “Alive. Andres isn’t. It’s over, Draven. It’s over.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Before Draven could sit up, the dark clouds parted and the wind swirled sand all around them. Not a single grain came close to him or Titus—or Riveen, who was hunched over on the ground, cradling his arm. Bruises were forming on his neck, and a bolt of fear shot through Draven. He’d almost lost his brother, and the number of casualties to their family had yet to be discerned.
“Let me help you.” Titus slipped an arm under Draven and used his other hand to pull.
Draven ached all over. He didn’t even try not to whimper as he moved. “Up. All the way.” He’d need to get to his feet anyway, and since he was already miserable, he figured he’d just get the worst of it over with.
Although, walking wasn’t going to feel so great, either.
“I can’t see past this…this…” Titus tipped his chin to part of the swirling sand. “Riveen needs our help, though.”
“Yeah, I can—” Draven wasn’t sure he could stand on his own. He’d try.
“Lean on me,” Titus urged.
Draven did, and the first step he took nearly dropped him to his knees. The second was slightly less hellacious, and the third had barely begun when the sand parted close to Riveen, and Ninfa popped in to squat beside him.
“Shit,” Draven muttered. He’d never been around Ninfa much growing up, but he’d seen her about once a year at the family get-together. He’d been clueless to the fact that she was something more than the rest of them.
Now, clothed in a black and turquoise robe, her wrists, neck, and ears covered in burnt silver jewelry studded with colorful stones, tattoos snaking down her arms, Ninfa exuded power and strength.
She helped Riveen to his feet. “I’m sorry I haven’t the energy left to heal you.”
Riveen winced and exhaled shakily. He tried to speak and coughed so hard Ninfa had to wrap both of her arms around him. “You saved Draven,” he scraped out.
“Don’t speak. You need to give your throat a rest.” Ninfa closed her eyes. “Now.”
Riveen looked like he was going to ask a question—much like Draven wanted to ask, Now what?
But the winds kicked up for a moment, then just as quickly as they’d started, they stopped.
And Draven’s head spun.
“How—what—?” Titus swayed either in shock or under Draven’s weight, or both.
Draven tried to stand up on his own.
“Home,” Riveen squeaked.
Ninfa tutted. “No talking.”
“Where are the others?” Draven asked as Titus led him to Riveen’s couch.
“Their own homes.” Ninfa walked Riveen toward his bedroom. “All alive, though not, as much as I hate it, unharmed. None were killed.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” Draven muttered, collapsing onto the couch as relief swept over him. “Thank the gods. I saw deaths, saw injuries.”
Ninfa stopped with Riveen in the hall. “No deaths. Andres had his lover show you things that did not happen.”
“The…the things in the ocean, that pulled at us?” Draven asked.
Ninfa scowled. “Real. Dead now, but real. None of our family died. Some will be scarred, but that is the worst of it. No lost limbs, no deaths.”
Draven’s eyes burned. “Thank you.”
She shook her head. “Not me, but the daughter of our maker, who worked through me.” She smiled then, and a mischievous look lit her dark eyes. “As my lover, she would not let death tear my family apart.”
Draven blinked as Titus gasped.
“You’re—you—?” Draven shook his head.
Ninfa shushed Riveen when he made a choked sound. “No talking. I’ve explained all I intend to at this moment. Be glad I have such amazing taste in mates, for she is mine, and I am hers.”
Draven didn’t ask anything else. Andres’ lover had nearly broken his brain—as a deity, he’d been incomprehensible to the shifter mind, unable to be understood or properly seen. Too much for mere mortals. He wondered if Ninfa would be immortal now.
“Is Ninfa dating a demigod, or is there something…a step below a demigod?”
Draven faced Titus. “I have no idea if there is. I’m not sure I want to know.”
“You’ve got a point,” Titus agreed. “We couldn’t look directly at whatever-his-name was Andres was with, and hearing him speak was painful.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
A sound coming from of Riveen’s room had Draven starting to get up, then he felt a subtle wave of power emanating from the same direction. An unfamiliar feminine voice rumbled, and Titus chuckled.
“Well, I guess that must be Ninfa’s SO?”
“Must be. At least, I hope some random person or goddess or…whatever, didn’t just appear in Riveen’s room.” Draven wouldn’t have been surprised by anything at that point.
“What a wonderful world we live in,” Titus whispered.
“I love you, Titus.” Draven sighed and rested his head on Titus’ shoulder.
“I love you, too.” Titus kissed his brow. “Always.”
Before Draven could drift off there on the couch in a state of warm fuzziness, he heard Ninfa’s footsteps and knew she was returning to th
e living room. He peeked out of one eye at her. “How bad is he?”
Ninfa sat in the rocking chair across from him. “He will be fine. Hileana is attending to him, but her power is limited since she expended so much energy earlier. She has offered to go to her father and request his help, and if that’s what you want, I will tell her—but be warned that asking a favor of a deity always comes with a price.”
“What price did you pay?” Draven opened his other eye.
Ninfa shook her head and smiled like a sappy, lovesick person. Draven knew he wore that same look often, too.
“None. Hileana gave her help out of love, just as I would give anything if she needed it from me. That is the nature of true love, is it not?” Ninfa started rocking slowly. “And she is capable of being around mortals, obviously. She is strong enough to control her power, unlike some other demigods who shall remain nameless…and dead. Axquital, the god of death, did not take kindly to Tokokuen’s interference. Although Tokokuen had told Andres he could not kill any mortals, he should never have brought Andres back without first presenting his desire to do so to Axquital.”
“I need to study up on all these deities,” Draven muttered.
“It would be appreciated but it is not necessary. They always have been and always will be, at least for us. Humans have their own gods and goddesses, or the singular, depending on their beliefs. Even when one doesn’t believe, that does not eradicate what will always exist.” She shrugged.
The conversation was getting too complicated for Draven to follow when his body and mind screamed for sleep.
“Would you like to meet Hileana?” Ninfa asked.
Draven wasn’t quite so tired. He sat up and nodded. “As long as she doesn’t make our brains ache and our eyes bleed.”
“I have more control than that.”
Though her voice came from down the hall, Draven heard the power in every word. He shivered and slid his hand over Titus’.
“So far so good,” Titus murmured.
That was true enough.
Her footsteps were light, and when she appeared, Draven was taken aback. Then he chided himself for stereotyping. He’d expected Hileana to be big, tall, powerful-looking, but she was a petite woman with light brown hair that hung in ringlets past her shoulders, and eyes the color of burnt gold.
In Deep Page 18
