Xanthia’s nostrils flared. “Certainly not trapped between the thighs of a whore!”
He glared at her. “I wouldn’t tilt at that dragon were I you.” He ground his teeth and reread the letter. “I can’t believe she went to the human realm.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” She gestured at the letter. “You have to do something. Find her!”
Scratching his head, he nodded. “Okay. Go home and watch Geras. I’ll get her back.” At least he was fully sober now.
As fast as he could, he washed, then used his powers to dress.
He went straight to Apollymi’s palace and sought out their goddess in her garden. Her mirror was the only thing he knew that had any chance of locating his daughter. He prayed he could talk the goddess into letting him use it for such a purpose.
But the moment he asked, she didn’t appear pleased.
Sitting on her perch while her two ever-present Charonte watched on, Apollymi arched a withering brow. “You know the answer, Urian. When it comes to such things, the mirror shows what it wants.”
Hence why he had no idea where Xyn was, even though he’d asked it repeatedly. The damn thing would never tell him where she was located. And he had no idea why. Maybe he kept it from working.
Orshedid. He wouldn’t put much of anything past Apollymi, especially when she got into one of her moods.
Not wanting to think about that, he went over to the edge and froze as he caught sight of himself in the black water. Normally, Apollites couldn’t cast a reflection. And that had driven Sheba to utter madness as she’d endlessly asked him how she looked. As if such a great beauty could ever have a day where she didn’t look amazing.
Yet never once had she ever believed him when he told her that. Women … he’d never understand that about them.
Personally, Urian had never thought much about it.
Until now. For the first time, given that his kind couldn’t cast reflections, he saw himself and understood why the other Apollites and Daimons treated him the way they did.
Iama freak.
His eyes were even more horrific than they’d led him to believe with their ridicule. While his father’s were the swirling silver of their goddess’s—which, granted, were off-putting—his were an unnatural shade of vibrant blue. They practically glowed. Unlike any color he’d ever seen before on any person.
And while he’d removed the beads and ribbons of Sheba’s tribe, he’d kept his ghostly white hair long.
Though he’d never shared a great passion with his second wife, he had cared for her and he felt that he should honor her memory and their time together.
He owed her that much. For she had changed him. She’d taken a boy and shown him that he could function without his family, and made him a confident man. Independent in a way he wouldn’t have been had she not come into his life and taken him away from Kalosis.
For that he would always be grateful.
But the one thing he couldn’t do was wear Xyn’s armor. Even if it meant his death.That,he’d packed away in a chest and laid a spell upon it to keep it safe from harm. Because it was all he had left of her.
Plus the pain of bearing her love without her here …
That stinging bite was more than he could handle. So he was dressed in the black Spathi armor of the rest of the Apollymians. And yet he looked nothing like them. Not really. He stood out as deadlier and toxic.
Urian Deathbringer.
Sheba would be proud. Releasing a tired breath, he forced his thoughts to the matter at hand. He had a little girl to find. One who thought herself a woman and had no idea how complicated her young life was about to get if he didn’t locate her and drag her home to her mother.
At first the stubborn waters refused to show him anything. They swirled and remained frustratingly blank.
Urian was about to give up and go searching on his own, when they finally began to swirl very slowly. Then they picked up speed.
Suddenly he saw that sassy little blond head he knew so well. She was in a large hall with other Apollites. Relief coursed through him that she was all right.
Until one of the men present grabbed her. She cried out in alarm.
The man in front of them curled his lip and unsheathed his sword. “We might as well kill her. If she’s not his blood daughter, she’s no good to us. And serves no purpose. Besides, why would he care? I heard he divorced her mother, long ago.”
