It was hopeless. Like she said. Everything they did turned to shit.
Ah crap…
He now had it, too.
10
This was so bad, and on so many levels. Falcyn turned around slowly as he tried to think of how to combat the SODs. But like Medea, he felt an overwhelming sense of doubt in his abilities to do anything at all, and the ultimate despair.
Never had he known such.
I am drakomai!
Yeah, so what? So are a lot of dragons.…
What makes you a special snowflake?
He had to drive this shit out of his head before he went mad from it. And from the depth of that madness, there was only one place he could think to go.
“Medea?”
She glanced up at him. “I hate this feeling, dragonfly. How do you fight it? I want something external that I can kill!”
So did he. This was so insidious. Like a madness eating away at his will and desires. He was so tired from it. As if a weight pressed down on not only his will, but his entire body.
He needed Blaise or Brandor to explain to him what the mortal enemy of these bastards would be so that they could use it against them and end this. “Everything has a weakness. We can find theirs.”
“How? We can’t even see them. It’s hopeless. Impossible. We’ll never win.”
In that moment, he hated his brother Max more than he ever had before. Why? Because the next words out of his mouth came straight from his brother and he knew it. He could practically hear Max’s voice over his own as he spoke the dreadful happy words that sickened him. “Nothing’s ever hopeless.”
Yeah, he wished he was back at Sanctuary so that he could beat the utter shit out of that ever-optimistic bastard.
How he hated Mr. Merry Sunshine.
As bad as Max had been before these past few weeks, he was twice as awful and sanctimonious now that he had his dragonswan and children with him. There were times when Falcyn was sure he’d puke from the saccharin overload of being around the lot of them. Only thing worse than Max was his kids and wife.
Especially that optimistic son Seraphina had dared to name after their brother Hadyn.
Dear gods, it was like someone had cloned Max.
He shuddered. And Hadyn would shit a brick to meet his happy Opie Taylor–acting namesake.
With a sneer, Falcyn tried to wipe the ick off physically with his hands, but it was no use. No matter how much he scratched at his skin or rubbed it, the sensation remained. “What drives away doubt?”
“Confidence,” Medea said. “A leap of faith. Sledgehammer to the face of whoever made you doubt yourself. Personally, I like the latter.”
He laughed at her surly tone and words that rang home to him, as he’d like nothing better.
Then he sobered. “That’s it!”
“What? I get to sledgehammer someone? I’m game if you are. Just point the bastard out.”
He quirked a grin at her sudden happiness and what had caused it. “As long as you’re naked, you can sledgehammermeall you want.”
She rolled her eyes at him and snorted. “Is that really your solution?”
“No, but now I have an image of you naked on top of me again and I completely forgot my original train of thought.”
