*
Medea hesitated outside her parents' bedroom as a bad feeling went through her at the uncharacteristic silence that greeted her. Not that the sounds she normally heard whenever she ventured here at this hour were comforting, far from it, but ...
"Mom? Dad?"
The door opened by its own volition.
Even more wary, she slid her hands to her weapons, ready to attack whatever threat might be waiting in the large, candlelit room. With its covers rumpled, the king-sized four-poster bed was empty. On one side, the drapes were pulled away as if it'd been vacated quickly.
Then she heard the faint telltale sound of sickness from the bathroom.
"We're in here," her father called.
Still not sure this wasn't a trick, Medea moved quickly, yet cautiously toward the retching sounds.
When she reached the door that was slightly ajar, she pushed it wider and froze in complete shock.
Barely dressed, her mother was on the floor sick, while her father held her. His short black hair was tousled, and his handsome face contorted by worry. Someone, no doubt her father, had braided her mother's long, blond hair to keep it out of her way while she was ill.
Both of them were pale and shaking.
Terrified, Medea rushed closer to them. "What's going on?"
Stryker swallowed hard before he answered. "I don't know. She woke up gagging. And has been sick for over an hour now." He adjusted the cool cloth on her mother's head.
Since Daimons and their brand of demon couldn't get sick, in theory, or pregnant, this couldn't be good. Medea knelt down beside her mother. "Matera?"
With a greenish cast to her skin, her mother placed a tender hand to Medea's cheek and tried to smile. "I'll be fine, little one. I just need a minute."
But she could tell by the fear in her father's eyes that this was worse than her brave mother was letting on.
"Did you need something?" her father asked.
She let out a frustrated sigh. "I hate to burden you with anything else...."
He arched a brow.
"Kessar's returned to the playing field. My spy at Sanctuary just sent word that he has the Emerald Tablet in hand, and has awakened the Scythian Riders to come for you."
Her mother made a sound of supreme pain. "I hate those bitches. I should have ripped out Nala's throat when I had the chance."
Only her mother could muster that much hatred and venom in that condition. But then, that was what Medea loved best about Zephyra. She was a fighter to the bitter end.
Her father laughed at the threat. "He's coming for me?"
Medea nodded. "And he wants Max."
"The dragon?"
"Yes."
"Why?" her father asked with a frown.
Before she could speak, there was another knock on their door.
Medea rose. "I'll see who it is." She teleported to the door, intending to brush off whoever was there. Yet as soon as she opened it and saw her second-in-command and best friend, Davyn, she knew something was wrong.
He had the same greenish cast to his skin and her handsome, lovely friend looked as ill as her mother. And like her parents, his blond hair was tousled all over his head--something Davyn never allowed to happen.
"What's wrong?"
He braced his hand against the frame as he struggled to breathe. "There's some kind of illness spreading through our ranks." As he started to elaborate, he broke off into a fit of coughing. "It's as if we have a plague."
An even worse feeling went through her at those words. Whenever someone mentioned the words "plague" and "Daimon," only one name came to mind....
Apollo.
And that rat bastard just happened to be in residence.
Terrified she was right, but really, really hoping she wasn't, she moved toward Davyn. "C'mon, baby, let me get you to bed."
He pulled back from her. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate the help, but I don't want you to catch whatever hell this is. Besides, Stryker would gut me if I gave it to you. And you would, too."
She snorted at his sick sense of humor. "Only you could be that funny and that ill simultaneously. Go on with you, before I beat you anyway. Just for good measure."
Offering her a weak smile, he vanished.
Medea took a moment to check on her mom and dad again.
Her giant, muscular father had her mother cradled in his lap like a small child. Zephyra appeared so tiny and frail, two things Medea wouldn't normally apply to a woman who was fierce and strong beyond measure.
He cupped her mother's face with his massive paw of a hand while he rocked her gently and kept her head tucked protectively beneath his chin. His obvious love choked Medea and brought tears to her eyes. For all her father's faults, he did adore her mother.
And her.
Sensing her presence, he caught her gaze. "Who was it?"
"Davyn. I'm going to check on something and then I'll update you."
"I trust you, daughter."
As she started to leave, he stopped her.
"Medea?"
"Yes, Father?"
"Love you."
For a full minute, she couldn't move. While she knew he felt that way, he didn't normally say it. Like her mother, her father was a fierce, violent creature. A ruthless Daimon of action, not affection. The fact that he felt compelled to say that worried her even more.
"Love you, too." And as she withdrew, he heard him doing the last thing she ever expected.
He whispered a prayer to Apollymi to help cure her mother's illness.
Yeah, that was scary.
And ironically, that was where she was headed. If anyone should have a clue about this, surely the ancient Atlantean goddess of destruction might know something.
Medea teleported from their home to the palace on the hill where Apollymi resided with her Charonte guards. Since it was late, she wasn't sure where the goddess might be. During the day, which was as dark as night in this hell realm known as Kalosis, the goddess was normally found in her garden.
Medea wasn't sure if Apollymi slept or what she did at night. Truthfully, she'd never given it much thought. Though now that she did, Apollymi must be lonely. She kept herself apart from the Daimons who worshiped her. Apart from the Charonte demons who guarded her, and there was no cable TV here. The curse that imprisoned her in this realm prevented her from visiting her son, Acheron, or from leaving this place.
What did the goddess do?
It definitely wasn't crochet or play Parcheesi.
Medea hesitated in the great hall of the black marble palace. "Hello?" That seemed like the safest way to announce her presence without irritating the dangerous goddess too much.
A tall Charonte female appeared by her side. With long green hair that matched her eyes, she had yellow-orange skin and dark orange horns and wings. "Yes?"
"It's all right, Sabine. I'm sure she's here to ask after a cure for her mother. You're excused for the night. Go see to your wee ones."
Turning, the Charonte gave a slight bow to the ever graceful Atlantean goddess. "Yes, akra."
Like a silent wraith, Apollymi glided out of the shadows. Her long white-blond hair floated around her lithe body, and was a stark contrast for her black gown. Her swirling silver eyes filled with compassion, she approached Medea. "I heard your father's plea. What's going on?"
Medea hesitated. This was the Atlantean Destroyer. A goddess of utter ruthlessness and destruction who had massacred her entire pantheon and family ...
Not the queen of warm fuzzies.
"Why are you being so..." Medea shuddered at using the word in front of the goddess lest she offend her and end up as a stain on the wall or floor, "kind?"
Apollymi laughed evilly. "While your thoughts are correct, child, I would remind you that I killed them all over the fact that they harmed my son." She sobered. "In spite of the fights we've had over the centuries, Stryker is my son as well, and though I did not birth him, he is no less dear to me. And as any mother, I will not and
She cupped Medea's chin in her hand. "And that includes you. Now what do you need from me, child?"
Medea hesitated again. Honestly, she wasn't used to affection from anyone other than her mother, and for a time, until the humans had murdered him, her husband.
Her relationship with her father was a very new one. She'd never had a grandparent of any sort, and this side of Apollymi rather frightened her.
It definitely made her uncomfortable. But for now, she'd go with it.
"There seems to be a plague moving through the Spathi here. Davyn is ill, as is my mother."
Apollymi's swirling silver eyes flashed red as she dropped her hand. An unseen wind swept through the room, whipping her hair around her body.
With a hissing curse, she turned and stalked away.
"Akra?"
"Follow me!"
Medea knew better than to question or disobey that tone of voice. She quickened her steps to catch up to the goddess, who led her down to a lower level of the palace that had once belonged to Misos, the Atlantean god of death and violence. From the looks of this level, she would say that this was where that ancient god had once held his "special" damned guests for punishment in their afterlives.
According to Medea's brother, Urian, those souls had been among the first consumed by the original Daimons Apollymi had brought here and saved from Apollo's curse. The souls of those corrupted damned had fed them for a long time.
But unfortunately, all good things came to an end. And after a time, the Daimons had been forced to leave and prey on humans out in the world to feed and elongate their lives.
Thanks to Apollo and his horrific curse.
As they reached the end of the hallway, Apollymi used her powers to throw open a thick iron door. Chained in a naked heap on the floor was Apollo, the Greek god who had damned them all and brutally gutted Apollymi's son Acheron when he'd been human. That betrayal was what the goddess hated him for most. But it paled in comparison to the thousands of years Apollo had spent torturing Acheron's twin brother, Styxx.
As Apollo's granddaughter, Medea should probably feel bad for the old god. But since his curse had cost her her life and he'd done nothing when the human vermin had slaughtered her husband and young son for no other reason than the fact that Apollo had cursed them to grow fangs and live only by night, she just couldn't find it in her heart to spare him. Rather, she hated him even more than her father did.
Furious, she charged at him.
Apollo pulled back laughing. "I wouldn't, were I you."
She hesitated. "Meaning?"
"I know why you're here and yes, I'm the cause of it all."
Apollymi flung out her hand and pinned him to the wall behind him. "What have you done?"
He laughed even harder. "All of you forgot that I'm the god of plagues. I saved up enough of my strength for one last payback."
Medea went cold. "What do we do, akra?"
The expression on Apollymi's face confirmed her worst fear. There was nothing they could do. One god couldn't undo another god's spell or curse.
Cruelty flashed in Apollymi's eyes. "One bastard turn deserves another."
Apollo actually paled at her words. He'd been here long enough to learn to fear that look, as they all did. "What do you mean?"
Apollymi slid an insidious smile to Medea. "We can't kill Apollo. We can't undo this latest trick.... But no one said we couldn't feed him to the gallu and let them turn him into one of their blood bitches as they did Zakar. What do you think?"
Medea laughed evilly. "Oh my Lady Apollymi, how I adore the way your mind works. Shall I summon Kessar for a negotiation?"
"Yes, little one. I think you shall."
Apollo screamed. "You can't do that! Have you any idea what they'll do to the world?"
She raked him with a cold, empty stare. "You forget, dearest Apollo, I am Apollymi the Great Destroyer. You think I care for these mortal fools?" She smiled at Medea. "Summon them."
13
Naked beneath his pile of furs, Max lay on the floor of his loft, holding Sera in his arms. He'd sent Illarion to Blaise to see after the children and return them so that they could visit with her before she returned to stone. But he wanted a few last private moments to say his good-byes.
It seemed that every heartbeat made her body turn colder and stiffer. She was slowly dying in his arms. He was trying everything he could think of to keep her warm and vibrant. How could his powers be so worthless?
She offered him a kind, sad smile as she fingered his lips. "Don't fret so, my dragon lord. It's not so bad. Really. It's not like being dead.... Just a long sleep. I don't even know that I'm there."
As if that helped? If anything, it made it worse to know that she existed in a dark, vacant state.
Her eyes glistening, she reached up to brush her hand through his bangs. "I just wish I could have seen your hair the way I remembered it. You look so tame like this. So human." She wrinkled her nose playfully.
He laughed as he gently caressed her breasts. "I would have thought you'd prefer my hair short and trim, like the men of your village."
"No. It's your feral dragon ways that have always beguiled me most. It was what first drew me to you, above all others."
"Then close your eyes."
She did, and he used his powers to return his hair to the primitive, barbarian style it'd been when they'd first mated.
Taking her hand, he kissed her palm and led it to his long, thin braids that were laced with feathers.
Sera gasped as she opened her eyes to see it. "How did you do that?"
"I have my drakomas ways."
Laughing, she wound a thin braid around her index finger and played in his long hair with such delight that it actually made him hard again. Though how he could rally given their last heated go-round was beyond him. It was a good thing he didn't have a bed, as he was sure they'd have broken it.
She brushed his braid against her plump lips. "There you are, my wild, feral dragon."
Max leaned over her and kissed her as his heart shattered at the thought of losing her again. He had so many powers. So many trinkets and treasures of the gods. Timeless enchanted objects people had killed throughout history to find and possess. But nothing that could stop or prevent this.
Nothing.
So he held on to her so tightly that she finally protested.
"You're crushing me."
"Sorry. I just want to keep you warm and safe." He teased her earlobe with his tongue.
She sighed in pleasure. "How I wish you could. There is nothing more I wish than to stay with you."
Someone knocked on his door. Max used his powers to put clothes back on them before he called out for their visitor to enter his room.
It was Illarion, with one of Merlin's magical spheres.
Max scowled at him. "Where are the kids?"
They're fine and still in Avalon. Since they're not in the process of reconverting to stone, Merlin kept them there. She thinks whatever is affecting Sera and her tribe here can't break through the barrier to reach them on her side of things. She was afraid that if she sent them back, they'd begin to turn, too.
Sera let out a sound of happiness as she sat up. "They're not changing back?"
Illarion held the crystal ball for her to see into it.
Both of the children were there, in what appeared to be Merlin's castle in Avalon. They looked happy and, best of all, healthy and whole. If not a little concerned and stressed.
Edena bit her lip as she moved her head about like a little bird, trying to focus on her mother's face. "Mom?"
Sera smiled at her as she took the ball into her hands. "Edena? Hadyn? Are you all right?"
Hadyn nodded. "We're fine. You?"
"Wonderful, now that I know you're both okay."
Edena's lips quivered. "Is it true? Are you changing back?"
She nodded. "I want you two to listen to your father and let him take care of you for me. Can you do that?"
They both nodded.
"I love you, Mom," Hadyn said, placing his hand on the orb. "I wish I was there to say it to your face."
"As do I. Just remember that no matter what, I will be close. And Edena, I need you to be kinder to your brother in my absence. Stop trying to clip his wings all the time. Let him learn to fly or crash on his own."
"I shall try. For you."
"I love you both. Please take care of each other and your father and uncles for me."
Edena started crying as Hadyn pulled her into his arms to comfort her.
Max swallowed hard as an idea struck him. "Merlin? Are you there with the children?"
The beautiful white-blond enchantress moved to stand next to them. "I'm here. What do you need?"
"If I brought Seraphina to you in Avalon, do you think you could stop her from turning? That whatever is saving the children could save her, too?"
Merlin hesitated. "It might, but it could also kill her, since she's in the process of changing already. I don't know what type of spell Zeus has her under. You know as well as I do how unreasonable magick can be, and the unforeseen consequences." She glanced to his children. "Plus, she's not your bloodline. While she carried your young and has mixed her blood with yours, it's not the same as being born of the drakomai. There's just no telling what might happen. I'm sorry, Max. I don't want to try something and lose her."
Tears choked him. Merlin was right. With her returned to stone, there was always a chance he could find another way to restore her. To get the Tablet from Kessar and use it to free her again.
But there was no way back from dead. Especially not if Zeus splintered her statue first.
"Thanks, Merlin."
She inclined her head to him before the mist in the orb swallowed them.
Sera cocked her head to stare up at him. "What's with that look? What are you planning?"
Yeah, you're scaring me, too.
He stood up. "I'm going after Kessar and the Tablet."
"Are you out of your mind?"
Max shook his head. "It's the only way. He used it to free you. Then I can use it to keep you here, too." He looked at Illarion. "Right?"
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