Chapter One
I came awake with a sharp jolt.
My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring up at the white panel ceiling of my bedroom, my breath caught in my chest, cold sweat running down the sides of my face. I lay absolutely still, listening to the sound of the ocean in the distance. The rolling waves crashing to shore, drawing back out in a heavy sigh, then sailing back onto the white sandy beaches of Atlantis.
Fuck. It'd been a long time since I'd had a nightmare like that.
Or was it really still a nightmare if it was a memory?
I grimaced, reaching up to lay my arm across my forehead before shifting it down over my eyes. I laid there for a while longer before I heaved myself up out of bed, shutting off the alarm before it could go off. I slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom, my feet making no sound as I went from the mahogany floors to the heated marble tile in the bathroom. I ducked into the shower for a quick rinse before stepping out, towel drying my hair, and pausing to frown at my reflection in the mirror as I did so.
Something still bothered me about that face.
Even worse, the hair that was growing on my head. Fae hair tended to grow just a bit quicker than normal hair, so I'd taken to shaving my head every day. Except for the past few when I'd been on a mission, so now it wasn't quite long, but it was definitely not shaved against my head anymore. I sighed, reaching up to rub my hand over the soft black locks. I was tempted to shave today, but even though I'd woken up before the alarm, I was going to be lack if I kept fucking around with stupid things like hair.
Don't be a pansy.
I went back into the bedroom to throw on the black uniform with red stitching. I laced my boots up and went to the small galley kitchen with my army green backpack. I grabbed a couple protein bars and protein shakes, tossing them in the bag and did a quick sweep of the small Spartan style home.
Well, to me it was Spartan. She had called it minimalist. No unnecessary decorations, grandma pillows, afghans. No paintings or pictures or bills sitting out on the countertops. I didn't need garbage clogging up the place. I only had what I needed.
I left the house, inputting the security code into the small panel by the door and headed down the steps down the gravel walkway that led the way off the property that was surrounded by a large retaining wall made of concrete. I enjoyed my privacy, especially in a neighborhood with gods and demons that didn't do well with the general population. It was why I had chosen the neighborhood in the first place. We got our privacy because no one wanted to fuck with us and we didn't fuck with each other. Everyone saw the lines, or fences rather, and didn't stick around to piss us off.
Well, almost everyone.
I stepped out onto the main street, sensing someone to my left, but I didn't even bother turning to address them. Instead, they came running to keep up with me as I headed down the street for work.
"Yo! Thanks for letting me stay at your place while you were out on a job. I was tired of getting groped by the old guy at the shelter." I didn't answer him. Him being Alek. Instead, I reached into my bag and took out a protein bar and protein shake, handing it over and taking a moment to glance at the kid I'd caught digging out of my garbage can a month ago.
Alek was a scrawny brat. He was only five foot seven, well over a foot shorter than me, with perpetual bedhead mussing up his dirty blonde hair. His eyes were clear baby blue lined with long lashes. Not exactly white, but not exactly black either, he was caught in the middle with a dark tan. He was a fae and still a child by our standards, probably only a hundred or so years old. He'd been kidnapped during the whole Atlan ordeal and sold to an Atlantean slave owner, who then sold to another Atlantean, who died during the war. With his death, Alek was free... unfortunately, he had no way of returning home, as his home was gone and his family had disappeared mysteriously.
Now, he wandered around Atlantis, unable to get a job because he was a screw up and unable to trust anyone, because let's face it; the kid was beautiful and perfect for sex trading. So when he ended up sleeping at a shelter, he either got sexually harassed or offered a job as a prostitute, one that he never accepted.
"I may be homeless, but I rather be a hobo than be a prostitute," he'd told me when I first met him.
I'd found him digging in my garbage can for food. After threatening to rip his organs out through his nostrils, I'd sent him on his way only to find that he'd returned the next day. Somehow, I ended up packing two breakfasts every morning and decided to give Alek what I could. I'd also let him stay at my place on the days he felt he needed a break from the shelter.
But gods, he was stupid as hell.
"Oh, sweet, you got strawberry this time! I love strawberries," Alek moaned, scarfing down the protein bar and licking the sweetness off his fingers. I didn't tell him I specifically brought strawberry for him and chocolate for me. And it was stupid anyway to accommodate an idiot, but I felt sorry for the kid.
"So, how did your whole job go? Did you kill anybody? Did you bring me back anything?" I rolled my eyes. He talked like we were friends. Bring him back anything? Like I went on vacation and didn't almost die trying to, and failing to, protect a major deity? I didn't answer him right away, and he kept staring at me expectantly, so I gave up on trying to give him the silent treatment.
"Bad. Nobody died. And no, I didn't go to fucking Paris, kid."
"Sounds like a sucky trip."
"It was."
"But at least you're back," Alek tacked on with a sparkling smile that could light up any normal person's world. But I wasn't normal and he only looked like an idiot when he smiled, so I looked away as I took out my own protein bar, peeling the wrapping off it and taking a bite.
"So, what's your schedule like today? What time are you coming home?" Alek asked. What was he, my wife?
"Late." I knew what was coming next without having to ask.
"Oh? Uh, okay... Listen, is it alright if I stay tonight? Just tonight, I promise," Alek tacked on, pausing to look at me when I stopped walking to glare down at him and he stared up at me with pleading blue eyes, "I just... Raphael found me at the shelter and I really don't want to stay there if he knows I'm there." I ground my teeth together at the mention of his ex-boyfriend. First of all, what the fuck was wrong with him dating a member of the mafia? Raphael, not the archangel, mind you, was Alek's ex-boyfriend and a member of the Russian mob in Hell. He'd taken Alek in after he'd moved to Atlantis and Alek had been freed.
To make a long story short, Raphael was an abusive punk who used Alek every chance he had. It was one of the main reasons Alek had such a hard time trying to get a normal job. Raphael crushed any semblance of trust Alek had... which was why Alek was the idiot.
Never trust another person. It didn't matter if they smiled at you and bought you things. One second you were in love and the next, they were using you as a scapegoat.
"How did he find you?" I asked at last.
"The priest who owns the shelter was talking to someone who apparently knows Raphael and the fact that he's looking for me. I'm really sorry," Alek added, "I tried to keep a low profile, I did. I know you don't like people at your place, but you and whatshername broke up, right? So it's not that bad, right?" I glared at him. As if working with Fiona wasn't bad enough, I had to have little oh so helpful here remind me too. I sighed in frustration.
"Fine, but only tonight. Tomorrow I want you to contact the authorities about this," I added, turning and continuing on my way. Alek hurried to keep up with me.
"But you are the authorities!"
"I'm a member of the Royal Guard, not your probation officer."
"No, but you can probably do something about it, right?"
"Not until he steps foot on my property, because then it's my business."
"Okay," Alek sighed, then studied me, "Hey, your hair's getting longer. You know, my mom told me that a fae's power is all in their hair, but you always shaved your head. Did something happen?"
"Laziness."
"Tell me about it," Alek agreed with a confident nod, "It's the only reason I don't cut mine. Also I can't afford it. Besides, I don't want to lose any power. Speaking of which, did you hear about..." His voice trailed off into a tangent that I promptly ignored because I didn't care what the kid talked about. The only reason we talked at all was that I felt pity for the brat and he couldn't shut up.
Thankfully, he never followed me up the hill to the main hall. He was terrified of Hannibal. He'd apparently seen and heard a lot about the King of Atlantis and figured Hannibal wouldn't want his dirty ass on his doorstep either. Not that Hannibal would do such a thing. He was the one who set up the shelters in the first place to protect those who were homeless from the war or who were searching for jobs as they got settled into the place. The number of homeless folk, of course, was very low and one shelter even shut down because there simply wasn't any people there to fill the beds.
I walked into the foyer of the main hall and was greeted by rows of statues of the gods of Atlantis. From Zetnos, the god of the underworld, to Lea, goddess of battle and curses, and at the head of the room was a massive statue of Hannibal, one that he really wished hadn't been erected in the first place, but Lea had insisted. And so had his husband, Akin.
I moved through the crowds of people who were there on business from desdios to gods alike. I checked in with Alfons at the front desk before I headed to the elevators, cramming myself in amongst the other creatures. It was a huge pain in the ass to be packed in like sardines, and worse when everyone looked like they desperately wanted to get out the moment I stepped in. I had been shoved into a back corner and a tiny desdios female was pressed up against me, her eyes downcast and her body shaking, like she would give anything to flee.
When the doors popped open on my floor, I had to wade through the people to get out, and it was almost like a huge sigh of relief was breathed the moment I exited. I turned and headed down the hallway to Hannibal's office. I was arriving just as his door was opening and Damien came out.
Damien was the demon in charge of the Royal Guard and their training regimens. He was incredibly tall, with a delicate feminine appearance to him, but he was anything, but feminine. Despite his long shiny brown hair and friendly purple eyes, he could kick just about anyone's ass and was on par with my own abilities. Of course, I didn't even know he was male until an accidental walk-in in the locker rooms a short while back and that was one of the major things that aggravated me.
Males were set apart for a reason. Why confuse the shit out of everyone else by acting like a female?
"Tristan," Damien greeted me with a tight smile, "Punctual as ever. How was your mission?" I didn't answer verbally, merely shrugged. He nodded, thankfully not pressuring me to talk. At least, not now anyway. Our annual reports were coming up, which meant in about a month Damien was going to once again sit me down and tell me how I sucked at teamwork.
"Best of luck today." He gave me a wave before he continued down the hallway. I watched him go before I went into Hannibal's office.
His office was something I could approve of, because like me, Hannibal didn't need much. His office was a basic design of black and white, a few leather seats for guests, and a sleek black desk desk and chair. The King himself currently stood by the desk, looking over a file folder.
Now, there was a male that gave masculinity its definition. Incredibly tall and powerful, muscles bulging with raw physical power. His physique was honed to perfection, the ultimate soldier's dream; certainly not the body of a king. His expressions ranged from bored to super bored and rarely anything more than that. Nothing surprised him, nothing scared him, nothing made him break that pokerface. Even more intimidating was the map of scars that overlapped every inch of his flesh, including his face, where one in particular went right through his left eye and curved down toward the corner of his lips where it forked off. Even with his long shiny black hair, he still managed to maintain that air of pure menace.
Of course, even though he didn't dress himself, because everyone fucking knew Akin called the shots in terms of his clothing, the angel happened to choose just right. Tight black leather pants that led into a pair of tall black boots that added another two inches to his already gargantuan height, and a black long sleeved shirt with mesh sleeves. But Akin never dressed him without a collar. And today's collar was black leather with silver studs along the center.
And that was the only thing that confused me about this perfect representation of masculinity and power. Hannibal was king of Atlantis. He was the hybrid prophesied to save the universe, which he did. He contained one of the most ancient and evil of curses, simply known as the Beast. He had an entire army at his command, had allies far and wide, could lead an entire campaign without lifting a finger. I'd seen him take down males twelve times his size. He could destroy anything.
And yet when it came to that skinny little effeminate angel of his, he practically got down on his knees and licked his feet. Akin was the one who called the shots in their relationship. He chose what Hannibal wore and when, chose how much money he could use at a time, designed their home by himself, and even stuck his nose into the business of Atlantis itself by whispering in Hannibal's ear.
Hannibal bent to his very will. If Akin told Hannibal to jump, he jumped. If Akin told him to spread his legs, he spread his legs.
And that was what infuriated me about this couple. I had a difficult relationship with Hannibal because of this. I was caught between admiring him, because he was everything I've wanted to be, and loathing his very existence because he shat all over everything he had for someone I didn't see as worth it.
And granted, I knew damn well my opinion of their relationship didn't matter. They were the Kings of Atlantis, for fuck's sake. But it didn't change how much I hated the way Hannibal threw away all of his glory for a freak.
Hannibal looked up, closing the file and setting it aside. His mismatched eyes, blue and white, watched me with calculation. There were times I swore he could read my mind, and while I was pretty sure it wasn't part of his abilities, I still pinned an image of a garden to the forefront of my mind.
"Glad you're here," Hannibal said, his voice a deep rumbling baritone, probably one he could achieve without trying, something I envied, "I just cleared your schedule for the next couple weeks." I immediately frowned at that in questioning and Hannibal nodded, like he understood me without me having to speak a word. I watched him walk over to the computer, reaching down to touch the screen to open up some files.
"It's mandatory as a new military to test all of our staff to ensure their ability to continue," he paused for a moment, glancing up at me and I just frowned further, "In a nutshell, I don't want fucking psychopaths working under my watch, got it? The last thing I need is to train a future Atlan. So I'm ordering that all the soldiers receive special medical testing right now so we can see who'll make the final cut. Not that I'm gonna kick people out, considering it was their loyalty that helped us win the war. I just want to know who I can trust at my back and who I should keep an eye on."
"So, after discussion with the council, we've decided to go forward with the decision. As of right now, each soldier is going to see a therapist for two weeks to ensure their mental health," he continued, "And it just so happens that you're at the top of the list." I couldn't help the grimace that came over my face. Therapy? Mandatory therapy? That sounded like a contradiction somehow.
"It's bullshit," Hannibal said at last and I blinked and looked up to see him raking a hand through his hair with a stern frown, "They shouldn't force that kind of shit on people. Believe me, I'm not so hot on the idea either, but the council decided it unanimously. They wanted to do a month long interview, but I talked them into two weeks. That's well enough to decide a psycho from a soldier."
I didn't know what to say to that. Part of me wanted to thank him for at least trying, and another part of me was furious that this whole thing had to take place in the first place. A therapist? Seriously? That bullshit didn't even happen in the mortal realm when I'd been part of the British army back in the early days. There was a survey at that beginning, but that was it. A bunch of papers to fill out. But a therapist shadowing me for two weeks?
This was a huge pain in the ass.
"So we might as well get this done and over with," Hannibal sighed, "The therapist we chose for you goes by the name Kieran McGowan. He's a licensed therapist and comes at high recommendation from family. I wouldn't trust anyone else to put with you, Tristan." I frowned at that. Kieran McGowan? The male fae who helped Ambrosius? I wasn't sure how I felt about that. The fae was another weird one. One I wouldn't be surprised to learn wore dresses in his spare time and owned a little pomeranian. While I wasn't particularly hateful toward the fae, I wasn't his biggest fan either.
A knock at the door made us turn to see Akin coming in, and I immediately frowned and moved to the side, knowing he was going to cut a straight path to the desk.
Akin was the other King of Atlantis, but he was only King by title really, not so much authority. Hannibal was the one true king. Akin took on the duties of a queen, but still wore the title of King. Not that he should or looked like he would. The word queen on the other hand suited him perfectly.
He was about my height, but unlike his husband who was muscular and ripped, Akin was incredibly slender and leanly muscled. His skin was a soft shade of cream, his platinum blonde hair currently done up in a high ponytail that flowed down his back, his bangs framing his delicate and feminine face. He even wore make up; his lips painted a soft shade of pink, eyeliner and mascara, like he was some kind of beauty queen. And nothing he wore came out of the men's section at the clothing store either. A flowing white blouse with a navy stripe across the top and tight blue jeans, jewelry jingling on his wrist and his heels clicking on the floor as he made his way toward Hannibal.
And fuck, Hannibal had tuned out the entire universe at this point.
Once Akin was in the room, the rest of us could fuck off, because Hannibal's eyes seemed to get all mushy and warm and cuddly, like he couldn't wait to get Akin alone. He went from all powerful king to a goddamn puppy in two seconds flat.
"Hey, Tristan," Akin greeted me, clearly never having picked up on the fact that I strongly disliked him, and I said nothing to him as he turned to Hannibal with a big smile, "Hi, baby. I just wanted to let you know that the things you asked for have been delivered and Hetrian has been taken care of. Also, the donations were sent this morning and should be deposited by now. Lea wanted me to ask for those files from last week and to schedule a council meeting in the next couple days about the matter we discussed last night." Hannibal just nodded dutifully.
"Good boy," Akin replied, making Hannibal tense, like hearing those words just got his rocks off, "I'm gonna go meet up with Kieran to make sure he's settling in." I frowned.
"He's moving here?" I asked. Akin looked at me, mildly surprised, then nodded.
"Yeah, he and his son moved in not too far from Galios Park. They still have some packing to do, so I'm gonna go over and help out before you meet up. So it might be another day or two before you can meet up together," he explained, then turned to Hannibal and flashed him an award winning smile, "Alright, sweetie, I'm gonna head out. I'll be back around six. Make sure dinner's ready by then, okay? And no more fatty stuffs. Your mom wants you to stick to that diet."
"I hate tofu," Hannibal deadpanned. Akin grinned, coming over to kiss Hannibal on the cheek before patting it there in a way that I saw as condescending, but apparently Hannibal liked it, because he nuzzled Akin's hand.
"I know, but you need to eat healthier. She's got a point. All that Thai food is gonna right to that cute little butt of yours and while I don't personally mind, it's not good for your health. It's like Stanton always tell us; just because we're immortal doesn't mean we don't suffer. So remember, stick to the diet list and we'll see how things go for a while, then maybe we can squeeze in some more beef, yeah?"
Hannibal grunted. Akin laughed and gave him another kiss, then gave me a wave before departing from the room. And as quickly as Hannibal had gone goo-goo over Akin, he was back to being a serious king.
"Right," Hannibal continued, "Anyway, I'll call you when Kieran is ready to see you. For now, you can take the day off. Besides, you just finished that mission in Purgatory, you could use the break."
"I want to work."
"And I appreciate that, but believe me, after a mission like that, it's good to take some time off so you don't end up working yourself to death, and something tells me you're ready to do that."
"That's why I'm here," I muttered. Hannibal frowned at that, but he said nothing more on the matter.
"You're dismissed," he answered, "And keep your phone on so I can contact you this time. Otherwise, I'm sending the whole squad over to your house and I know how much you love visitors." I said nothing, just bowed low and walked out of the room, feeling thoroughly pissed off and wanting to smash everything in the pretty hallway outside the office. I reined in my temper best I could and this time, took the stairs down to the lobby to avoid the elevator traffick.
A therapist. Whose idea was it to hire a therapist for soldiers? Of course we're going to have some fucking problems. We've killed people. We've taken the lives of mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters. In order to protect and serve our nation, our realm. We've all suffered one way or another, but that didn't require a therapist to come and get inside our heads. It was basic PTSD, nothing more and nothing less. It didn't interfere with the job.
At least, not for me.
Probably because mine had nothing to do with war.
I shook my head hard to ignore the past and left the main hall, heading over to the military barracks to seek out the training facility. It wasn't a very long walk and the security was a breeze to get through thanks to the specialized app on my phone that allowed me to pass through without getting a pat-down or an alarm going off.
The hallways were spic and span, much like my home, no decorations. The only photos came from military generals, the heads of the squads, and of course, several of Hannibal in his uniform... and not looking at the camera since the only photo you could get of him was when he wasn't looking; otherwise, he'd make a run for the nearest exit.
I went to the gym, pleased that there weren't many people there. I threw my bag down and went to the nearest punching bag, wrapping athletic tape around my knuckles.
Therapy.
Bullshit.
I wasn't going to spend two weeks trapped in a room that smelled like vanilla with a male who was barely male.
I slammed my fist repeatedly into the bag, watching it bounce and fly backwards. I swung my foot up and smacked it hard, holding my balance up with my fingers on the mat as I doubled my kick, then dropped back down to avoid the swinging bag. I popped back up and punched it when it came back around.
I kept at it for a few hours. I savored the bruising of my knuckles, the weakness in my muscles from overuse. I couldn't stand to be still for too long. I couldn't stand not doing anything. So if I couldn't work, then I'd train. That's what my life was. Training, working, sleeping, and even the latter was no longer happening well. Lately, I'd been waking up from nightmare after nightmare.
No, not so much nightmares as just... memories that were best forgotten.
We believe you are part of the prophecy that could end the universe.
First of all, no fucking thank you. I'd seen what this prophecy was doing to everyone involved and none of it looked inviting. And second of all, how could it possibly involve me? It was clearly connected to the Hades clan, somehow, and I had no relation whatsoever to those maniacs nor did I want to. So it didn't make any sense that I would be connected. Apparently the little female took one look at me and figured I was traveling with them and must be involved somehow.
Besides, all she had to go on was a feeling.
And a lot of lives could be destroyed based on just a hunch.
"I knew I had a feeling about you."
I shuddered. I hadn't heard that woman's voice in my head in a very long time. I went back to punching the bag for a little while longer, then switched to the wait room before I showered up and headed back to the house. I'd assumed I'd be later, but it looks like I was going to have an awkward dinner with Alek.
I left the training facility a little after five and made my way back toward the house. I passed a few neighbors, all of whom kept their heads down and kept walking, just as angry and antisocial as myself. I went up the drive, pausing to glance at the windows where the light was shining through the thick curtains. Frowning, I went to the door and popped it open, stepping inside to see Alek sitting on the sofa in front of the television, stuffing his face with a bag of chips.
"How long have you been here?" I asked, dropping my bag off at the dining table.
"Since three," Alek said through a mouthful of chips, his eyes watching the bright flashes of light from his action movie, "Hey, you know, if you grew your hair out and it was blonde, you'd look a little like Chris Hemsworth." I had no idea who that was, and shook my head before I went to the kitchen to start digging around for food. I was no chef and I did my best not to bother with the idea of cooking gourmet meals, so I grabbed a couple of TV dinners and popped them in the microwave before cutting up some strawberries from the garden in back.
"Wow, that smells good," Alek said as I brought the bowl of strawberries over and set them on the table in front of him. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful, nibbling on them as he went back to watching his movie.
"Did you talk to the authorities today?" I asked. Alek looked at me sheepishly and I glared at him.
"I'm not holding you up here for days on end."
"Aw, come on, why would you feed me and let me stay here while you're out, but not while you're here? Isn't that better so I don't steal anything?"
"Try stealing from me," I deadpanned. Alek looked around the sparse room. A single book shelf, the sofa he was sitting on, the television mounted on the wall, a dining room table the size of an end table, a single chair, and the coffee table was all that sat in front of him. He wrinkled his nose at me.
"I couldn't steal from you anyway. You have nothing."
"And neither do you," I replied flatly and he shrugged in agreement, taking more strawberries as I made my way back to the kitchen, "Talk to the authorities tomorrow." I didn't get a response, which meant he was ignoring me again. I sighed as I took the meals out of the microwave, only to catch a glimpse of something out the corner of my eye. I frowned, reaching back to the knife I kept strapped to my waist. I slipped it from the holster, moving toward the sliding back door. I stuck close to the wall, lifting the knife.
"Hey, Tristan, do you have any..." Alek's voice trailed as he looked up, his eyes widening as he realized I was tense and ready for battle. He immediately dropped down to the floor and I kicked the door open, reaching out and snatching a handful of someone's shirt, dragging them into the room and throwing them down on the ground, straddling them a second later. I held the knife to Euan's throat, glaring down at him as he laughed nervously.
"Always good to see you, Tristan, innit?" He asked. I glared at him, keeping the knife to his throat for a full moment to ensure it was really Euan. It definitely looked like him, his unevenly cut light brown hair, his almond shaped dark eyes staring up at me expectantly, his pale complexion, and that Scottish accent as if he'd crawled from the depths of the highlands themselves. I couldn't detect any sort of trickery, so I backed up and rose to my feet, letting him get to his feet.
I looked past him into the living room where Alek was peeking over the sofa to eye me nervously.
"An ally," I said. Alek nodded, but still settled warily on his knees on the sofa, prepared to make a run for it if he needed to. I looked at Euan, who stretched after he'd gotten to his feet, then rubbed at his back.
"Awfully rough there, yeah? You ever thought of sheddin' a few there?" He asked, making me narrow my eyes at him.
"You said you were coming next week," I stated. Euan rocked back and forth on his heels. He always thought he was just the cutest damn thing, but he was really the most obnoxious. Shown in his brightly colored blue t-shirt pulled over a mesh long sleeve top and yellow shorts and purple ankle boots. Clothing he did not buy with his money and probably money he stole. Last I'd heard, he'd stolen Xiphrus's credit card and taken off with it. You'd think the ancient demon would've cancelled said card after he'd received a twenty-five thousand credit bill.
"Had to come a bit early, I'm afraid," Euan replied, "Was gettin' a bit hostile if you catch my drift. You cannae ask me to go into enemy territory and not expect things to go a wee bit wrong." I rolled my eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I glanced over at Alek, then at Euan. I held up a finger for him to wait a moment before I gave Alek his dinner and took Euan into my room in the back of the house. I shut the door to give us privacy before turning around to look at him.
"Did you find anything out?" I asked. Euan shook his head.
"Not much. They still have no idea how you're connected to the prophecy. Did you find anything out on your own?"
"Zilch."
"Aye. Well shit."
"Go back," I said at last and Euan made a noise of distress, making me narrow my eyes and step toward him so he was backed up against a wall, his hands held up in defense, "You owe me this after what you did. Go back. Keep an eye on those little demons."
"Not quite little if they're ancient."
"Keep an eye on them. Sooner or later they're going to find something out and I want to be the first one to know, understood?"
"Aye, aye. Are ye at least going to invite me to eat dinner with you?" Euan asked hopefully. I glared and he sighed wistfully. He went to the sliding door in my room and out onto the deck. I followed him out to ensure his departure. He transformed into a bat and fluttered off into the night. I watched him go until he disappeared before I came back inside, putting my back to the door and frowning.
Well shit.