Nothing worked.
“Falcyn!”
Suddenly, he heard Blaise’s shout, along with Urian’s. But he didn’t acknowledge them. Or let their voices slow him down in any way. He had to keep trying to fight and scatter his attackers and reach his Daimon. Nothing mattered past freeing Medea. He was consumed with a frenzied madness to save her, and drive these bastards away.
His blood pounded in his ears. He tasted bile and sweat. One minute the shadows were consuming her and in the next, she was finally in his arms, holding him. Bringing him slowly back to sanity.
She blinked, her gaze filled with total disbelief as she reached up to place her cold fingers to his chin. “Falcyn?”
He could barely breathe as he stared down into those dark eyes. Cupping her head in his palm, he pulled her against him and held her tightly. His breath came in ragged gasps. “Are you all right?”
She glanced about as if in a daze herself. “They were trying to infiltrate my mind… to take me over and make me think their thoughts. It was awful! I was sure they had me.”
“I know. So was I.”
“How did you get me free?”
Brandor rudely cleared his throat to indicate the bottle in his hand. “I threw fey water on them to make them solid, and he beat the utter shit out of them while they were weakened. We were trying to explain to him what to do. But he didn’t listen.”
“He didn’t need to,” Blaise added with a laugh. “Apparently, you can just wail the bloody buggers out of any wet body. Good old Falcyn. There’s no problem so big that it can’t be solved with an adequate supply of canned whup ass.”
Falcyn reluctantly let go of Medea and snorted at the uncharacteristic term from Blaise, which showed that he’d been spending way too much time at Sanctuary lately. “You know, I’ve never really understood that expression. Seriously. If someone says they’re going to open up a can of whup ass on you, it means that someone out there is actually canning whup ass. Truth be told, that’s the guy I’d be most afraid of.”
Urian laughed. “Valid good point. Next time Nick or Dev uses it, I’ll have to bring it up to them.” He jerked his chin toward Medea. “You feeling better?”
She cast a nasty glare at Brandor as she pushed herself to her feet. Dusting herself off, she grimaced at him. “Aside from the water some thoughtless bastard slung all over me, yeah.”
With an amused grin, Falcyn used his powers to create a leather jacket that he draped around her shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, you’d win the Sanctuary wet T-shirt contest, hands down.”
Scoffing as she shrugged it on, she turned her grimace toward him. “Don’t go there. I’ve been told by the Charonte demons that roasted dragon is quite tasty. With or without the barbecue sauce.”
“That threat would hold more weight if you weren’t an Apollite who lives solely on the blood of your own kind.”
“Yes, but I still hunt and kill for sport. Never forget that.”
Blaise smacked Urian on the shoulder. “And here you were afraid they’d start getting along if left unguarded. Told you, you had nothing to fear. Falcyn pisses off everyone. Even without trying. He can’t help himself.”
Medea grew quiet as that remark hit a little too close to home. Not that Falcyn had ticked her off.
Rather that they’d gotten along a lot more than the others would ever guess. And the seductive scent of her dragon standing so close to her right now was warming her significantly more than the leather jacket he’d conjured.
Worse was the need she had to bury her face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in. Tongue that tendon that stood out just a bit along his collarbone and sink her hand in those soft, short curls.
Tease his jawline with her fangs…
It was all she could do to not give in to those urges that made her entire body burn.
As if he could read her thoughts, his cheeks darkened and Falcyn quickly changed the subject.
And to her chagrin, he also took a step to the right—away from her. “My changeling powers are back,” he said to Blaise. “How are yours?”
Blaise quickly shifted into his dragon form. But he didn’t stay long before he returned to his human body. Yet the expression on his face said that he wasn’t happy to have the ability restored. “This isn’t good.”
His ire baffled Medea. Surely he had to be relieved to have those powers restored. “Why not?”
“I’m thinking if we can shift it could only mean one thing.… We need to get to my father’s castle. Fast!”
“Lead on, brother. I’ve got your six.”
