His gaze rested briefly on the bed where her mother slept, a shadow passing over his stern features. Quietly, he walkedout.
* * *
The night had been endlesslylong and far too quiet. Daybreak was a mere houraway.
Normally, it would have made Dagan uneasy, because it just meant more shit would ensure when evil roseagain.
Right then, he didn’t care, restlessness taking hold as he traipsed the still dark alley downtown his mind on everything that had transpired from finding Jenna and the horrid outcome there, to Shae and the wonder ofher.
Hell, he should have trusted himself. He’d never hurt her. She was his very life. It took her thumping him to show him the truth. A corner of his mouth kicked up. Only she woulddare.
The smile faded, his mind looping back to Týr. A thought struck him like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. He stumbled to a stop—no! Noway!
Exhaling harshly, he whipped around in the gloomy alley. He had to speak to him. He sent his senses out, found Týr, and dematerialized to Dante’s Bar. Several Harleys were lined up outside the all-night bikers’bar.
Týr’s latest haunt. Which he didn’t get since he’d heard about the warrior’s penchant for clubs and the females there. And this place? Mostly just bikers and their women hungout.
The moment he entered, the noise cut off. Heads turned. Ignoring them, he made his way to Týr, who was engaged in a tense game of pool with a heavyset, bearded biker, who sported more leather than the Guardians did. And was surrounded by more of his leather-cladpals.
You sure know how to make things come to a halt,Týr telepathed him, his tone bone-dry as he cued hisshot.
Dagan snorted. Youdone?
In a moment, as soon as I get my hundred bucks from this human.Týr shot the last striped ball into the pocket and smirked. He didn’t even notice the waitress nearby eyeing him hopefully as he collected his winnings. They headedoutside.
“So. What’s up?” he asked, pocketing the dollars. “Thought you’d be tracking back to the castle and your mate. Wait, did Michael reach a decision aboutJenna?”
“No. Her mind’s too fragile for a mental search, so that’s on hold for now…” Briefly, Dagan filled him in at what had occurred earlier. About Jenna andGusion.
“Man, that’s theshits.”
It sure was. “But there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Let’s head back to the castlefirst.”
They took form on the kitchen terrace, heavy with the fragrant herbs growing there. The lights from the kitchen spilled out onto the paved patio and the wrought-irontable.
Týr removed his biker jacket and tossed it on the table, cocked a brow, andwaited.
Despite the chilly fall breeze coasting over him, Dagan barely felt the cold. But he had to start wearing a coat soon to blend in with mortals. “Something’s been on my mind since we spoke on the rooftop. That last day in the pantheon, when you were with Inara, did you drinkanything?”
He scowled. “I wasn’tdrunk—”
“No, I meant anything else. Do yourecall?”
“Of course, I remember. I’ve replayed that scene a zillion times since then, searching every detail of that day, trying figure out where it went wrong…” Týr frowned. “Inara offered me a drink like she always did, only the cup was different…a gold goblet. Why? What do you—?” His eyes widened.“Hell, no!”He staggered back, hitting the table, a vein throbbing violently on his brow. “She fucking laced the drink because I wouldn’t let her go to the damn river?” He slammed his palms on the wrought-iron table. “How couldshe?”
Dagan felt like pounding something, too. But the anguish in Týr’s face, the pain there, garroted him. No words of apology could ever make things right—not with five hundred years of having lived the horrors of Tartarus betweenthem.
“How could she?” a torturedwhisper.
There was only one thing he could do. “Hefndrite is yours. I will pay the debt for Inara, for what happened. And for what I did toyou.”
His words seemed to stir Týr from the dark desolation he appeared trapped inside. He straightened from the table, the furious color in his face ebbing to leave his usually tan skin pale. “You want me to takerevengeon you?” he asked, tone flat. “Why? You weren’t in charge thatday.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Dagan snapped. “Because of my sister’s actions and my anger, I mortally wounded you. If the ruling council hadn’t intervened, and we weren’t hauled to the Gates of the Gods in that moment for judgment, youwouldhavedied.”
Týr sat on the edge of the table, his gaze on his boots. Asked instead, “Didyouever regret what youdid?”
“In that blood-drenched room, all I knew was that Inara was dead, and I was beside myself with grief. In Tartarus, I was still so angry…then my change occurred within weeks of being imprisoned, and all I could think of was my next feed. Sometimes, I think what happened to me there was just andfitting.”
