Unperturbed, Kessar examined his claws. “Fine. I take it you’ve no interest in learning where they sent your sister?”
A slow, insidious smile spread over Falcyn’s face. “Oh, I’ll find her. As soon as I eat your brains and absorb the information.”
Faster than Medea could blink, Falcyn was on Kessar, tearing at his flesh. With an unholy growl, he snatched the demon’s head back and would have ripped out his throat had Kessar not vanished.
Blood dripped from Falcyn’s hands and chin as he sneered up at the dismal sky. “What? Was it something I said? Come back here, you pussy bastard! What kind of demon runs like a bitch over a small bite?”
Urian crossed his arms over his chest as he met Medea’s shocked stare. “And now you know why I had my reservations about seeking out our not-so-friendly dragon for conversation. You just can’t take him out in public. Or private either.”
Medea would have made a comment had Falcyn not decided to lick the blood from his fingers. “They have these things called napkins, you know? Been around for thousands of years now. You should try one.”
Wiping the blood from his lips with his knuckle, he grinned at her. “A squeamish Daimon? Seriously? Besides, I like the taste of my enemy’s blood. It soothes me. Blood of my friends is even better, but they tend to get a little testy whenever I partake of my favorite delicacy.”
Blaise sighed. “Really, we tried home-training. He failed miserably. But he’s awesome when you need someone killed and you don’t have a place to hide a body. He eats all traces of it. Better than a pet Charonte demon.”
With one last lick to his middle finger, Falcyn turned back to Blaise. “Can you transform?”
“Haven’t tried. Why?”
“I can’t.”
Blaise looked sick to his stomach at that realization. After a second, he shook his head. “Why can’t we turn?”
“That would be the disturbing question of the moment, wouldn’t it?”
Urian laughed nervously. “How do we get back?”
“There’s always a portal of some kind.” Falcyn turned a slow, small circle as he surveyed the land around them. “We just have to figure out where it is and what it looks like. You know… fun shit that, always.”
“Yeah. Lots of fun.” Urian’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “And avoid stray magick and demons.”
“And everything else,” Medea added.
“Exactly what she said,” Falcyn muttered under his breath.
“So glad I got up this morning.” Blaise sighed heavily. “Hell, I even bathed.”
Falcyn passed a smug sneer at him. “So glad I’m stuck here with all of you. Bitching and moaning. I suddenly feel like I’m teaching kindergarten.”
Medea shook her head at Falcyn’s droll tone. “I know whyIneed your dragonstone. What’s the deal with the others, anyway? Why are they so hot to lay hands to it?”
“Aside from the fact that they’re assholes?” Falcyn headed for the woods. It seemed as likely a spot as any to find an enchanted portal. “Narishka wants it to bring Mordred back to life.”
“Mordred le Fey?”
He inclined his head at her. “Yeah. Apparently, they think they’ve found his tomb, and Mom wants a reunion with her precious little boy.” He smirked. “Personally, I’d like to reunite them in hell. Who’s with me?” His gaze went first to Urian, then Blaise. “Really?” he asked drily. “No takers?”
Medea shrugged. “I might be tempted if I knew who you were talking about.”
“Queen Bitch, Morgen le Fey. Can’t miss her. Tall, gorgeous, meaner than shit. Blond and lethal.”
“Sounds like me… except for the height.”
He laughed. “That’s what all the stories about you say. Are they true?”
“Depends on your side of things. My mother says I’m not mean enough.”
“Ouch.” Falcyn sucked his breath in sharply. “Take it Mommie Dearest has some issues?”
