But his eyes are bright with excitement from battle—pupils dilated, almost glowing. And now he’s talking enthusiastically about vampires like they’re old friends he’s excited to see.
So I sit back in my seat instead, a numb sort of calm descending over me like a blanket. Shock, probably. My brain shutting down to protect itself.
Abaddon looms over Layden in the cockpit. “Are you an idiot? Did you learn nothing from our little escapades during the Ottoman Empire?”
“They’ve become more interesting since then,” Layden says, never looking away from his beeping instrument panels or acknowledging Abaddon’s intimidating presence. His fingers dance across switches with practiced ease. “Plus, they’ve gone and gotten themselves a god along with some very powerful witches. Who I happen to be friends with.”
“The god or the witches?” Abaddon demands.
“Both.” Layden waves a hand dismissively over his shoulder. “It’ll be a safe place to land.” Finally, he does look at Abaddon, meeting his brother’s fierce gaze steadily. “As long as you trust no one and keep your glamours on at all times. I spent some time with them while I was... away. They’ll know we’re magical but can never know just how magical we are.”
“We aren’t magic, we’re gods,” Remus grouses beside me, crossing his arms.
“That’s a matter of contention and certainly not how you should introduce yourself if you don’t want trouble,” Laydensays, shooting Remus a pointed smile over his shoulder. “Or if you’d like your lovely consort to be able to leave without becoming a permanent blood bag.”
Immediately, Remus’s whole body tenses. He looks my way—really looks at me, seeing me properly for the first time since he landed back inside. Taking in my tear-stained face, my shaking hands, my wide, shocked eyes.
“I’d kill them first.” He moves closer to me, one hand reaching for mine. His voice drops to something deadly serious. “No one will harm you. I swear it.”
“Vampires, remember,” Layden mutters, adjusting the heading slightly. “They’re just as immortal as you.”
Remus’s head whips toward the front, his voice turning angry—protective and fierce. “Then why the fuck are we taking our vulnerable women there?”
His entire body hardens into a protective stance, wings flaring slightly, tail lashing once.
Another day, another time, I might have argued against the whole “his vulnerable woman” descriptor. I have opinions about that kind of possessive language. But considering I was almost just eaten by an actual dragon, and they’re now casually discussing visiting vampires like it’s a trip to the grocery store, I’m not going to squabble about semantics.
Especially when his arm comes around me, squeezing my shoulder firmly. When he feels me shaking—trembling like a leaf despite my attempts to control it—his grip tightens protectively.
“Because they’re the only place that’s truly guarded from the outside world,” Layden says with exaggerated patience. “Which, I’ll remind you, is currently trying to kill and or capture all of us right now.”
“That was just Russia,” Abaddon grouses, but there’s less heat in his voice now. “And they only found us because Remus is an idiot.”
“An idiot who got us out of there alive,” Remus shoots back.
Layden ignores both of them, pulling his headset back on and pushing several buttons on the communications panel. Lights blink in sequence across the dashboard.
He makes a sharp motion for quiet that absolutely no one pays attention to until he starts actually talking into the headset. His voice suddenly shifts—becomes much softer, almost gentle. A tone I’ve never heard from him before. Almost intimate.
“Hey, it’s me.” A pause. “I know we haven’t talked in a while. Okay, longer than a while.”
There’s longing in his voice. Regret.
“Do you still live at your grandpas? Can you meet me there?”
Even not being able to see his face, I can feel his wince at whatever response he gets. His shoulders tense.
“I know, I know. But I’m with my family, and it’s an emergency.” Another pause, longer this time. “Yes. All my family. The protection around the castle was breached. You know that thing we talked about? I think it’s happening.”
“What does that mean?” Abaddon demands, clearly making no pretense of not listening in. He leans against the cockpit doorframe, arms crossed.
Layden holds up one hand in a “wait” gesture and shoots a glare over his shoulder at his brother before his voice turns soft again—softer even than before.
“Okay. We’re headed there now. If you could call ahead so they know to expect us, it’d be appreciated. Call Sabra, too.”
If possible, his voice gets even gentler when he says quietly, “See you soon.”
There’s hope in those words. And fear. And something that sounds a lot like love.
