***
Chewing her nail, Medea was beside herself as she and Davyn made the long walk back to her parents’ room. In fact, this was the longest walk of her life. Neither of them spoke. Which was rare for them. She even forgot that she was aggravated at Davyn.
By the time she reached their room, she’d forgotten a lot of things.
Until she pushed the door open to find both of her parents completely restored. Relieved and grateful, she rushed in with tears in her eyes to embrace her mother, then her father.
But it was Falcyn she kissed. “Thank you!”
He smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”
Her father cleared his throat gruffly. “What’s this? Leave room for the imagination between the two of you! Now!”
Falcyn snorted at his tone. “Don’t even start with me, old man. Or I’ll put you right back like I found you.”
She smiled up at her irascible dragon, yet she didn’t miss the fact that he was a bit pale for his efforts. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” He cut a nasty glare toward her father. “Better with a little Daimon blood to soothe my mood.”
She popped him on the arm. “Then take it from Davyn.”
“Hey! I think I resent that!”
Laughing, she turned toward her father, and sobered. “We have a problem.”
Her father groaned. “What now? Apollymi in another foul mood? Or is Apollo back?”
“Neither. I found Phoebe Peters in Davyn’s room, feeding on him.”
While her father paled, he took the news a lot better than she’d have thought. In fact, he wasn’t nearly as shocked as she’d been or that he should be, given how incredulous this was.
Neither was her mother.
And that sent a chill up her spine. “Father? Is there something you want to tell me about this matter?”
He glanced at her mother.
Her bad feeling tripled. She knew that look they were passing between each other—as if trying to figure out who would take the blame for whatever problem had cropped up.
“You knew?” she accused.
His features blanched even more. “It’s not what you think.” Yet that tone said that it was.
Oh dear gods! He reallydidknow. Sick to her stomach, she exchanged a shocked stare with Davyn.
She turned back toward her father. “How is it not?”
Stryker drew a deep breath before he answered. “She was sick, Medea. Infected by the blood she’d been feeding on.”
“Gallu?”
He shook his head. “Worse.”
What could possibly be worse than the bite of a gallu that would turn them into mindless zombies?
Davyn cursed under his breath as if he understood it. “Anglekos.”
In that moment, Medea cringed, too. Then she felt stupid for not realizing it on her own.
