Nibo poured whatever Acheron had in his mug out and confiscated it for his rum, then poured himself some before handing the bottle over to his friend. “There’s a crew heading this way who wants to avenge him. But more to the point, we’re going to guard your body.”
Acheron choked on his drink. “Pardon?”
“You heard me.”
“Guard me from whom?”
“Sadly, my idiot brother.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he removed the small round spectacles with dark lenses he’d been using to conceal his inhuman swirling silver eyes from the mortals. “Is Qeenan out of his mind?”
“All the time, hence my severe concussion.”
“Sonofabitch.”
Nibo let out a small hiss. “I would agree, but I do love my mother and have no wish to insult her in such a manner.”
“Sorry … asshole.”
“That, I will drink to.” Nibo held the mug up for Acheron to clang the bottle against. “May his testicles rot off.”
Acheron choked again.
“You’ve got to stop wasting me rum, Atlantean. It’s too good to spew.”
“Then stop catching me off guard.”
“Didn’t think that was possible.”
Acheron laughed. “Normally, it isn’t. You have unique skills.”
“So they tell me.”
The wind around them began to stir, and with it came a rhythm that wasn’t found in nature. Nibo cocked his head as he heard a faint drumbeat off in the distance.
Acheron tensed as if he heard it too. “Heartmen?”
“That or dupey. But neither should be active this time of day.”
Snorting, he handed the bottle back to Nibo. “Freaks come out whenever they want. Haven’t you learned anything during all these centuries?”
“Oh, I’ve learned lots. More than I wanted to, most days, as it was shoved violently down me throat.” Nibo stood up and began to scan the horizon for the source of what was tormenting them. The temperature dropped.
A chill ran up his spine. How he hated portents. They were the gods’ way of sending an obscene gesture at them all.
He manifested his staff at the same time Acheron did his. The winds picked up a howl that sounded more like a pack of banshees.
That sent the natives packing, and they scrambled for cover, thinking it some kind of tropical storm.
If they only knew. …
Nibo exchanged a peeved grimace with Acheron. “I’ve got the shit-stains on the left.”
“I’ll toss whatever comes from the right.” Acheron rolled his shoulders. “Simi? Human form.”
His Charonte demon that existed on his skin in the shape of a dragon tattoo over his heart peeled herself off as a shadow that twisted and twirled in the wind until she became an adorable human teen who stood at his side. Dressed as an islander with dreadlocks that were held back from her face with a purple scarf, Simi smiled the moment she saw Nibo.
“Ooo! Baron Sexy! It’s so good to see you!” With an adorable squeal that flashed a bit of her fangs, she ran at him so that she could give him a huge hug. “How you been!” She tugged playfully at the feathers he had braided into his hair.
