Page 115 of The Phoenix

“Did you see his face?” asked Rein.

“No. Let me return for a better look-see.”

Before she reentered her trance, Tyr caressed her hand. “You seem a little drained.”

“Strange. I am a bit tired. Anyway, this is a legendary weapon. The filí aímatos.”

Rein’s pupils swung edge to edge when he thought about the name. He shrugged.

“Greek. Blood’s Kiss,” Jace translated.

Brae glanced at her mate. “The weapon Indigo and Roark found?”

“Yes.” Rein stroked his jaw, not fond of the shifter sneaking up to their apartment, even with a gift. He didn’t trust the ex-Arisen Dawn soldier who claimed to be an ally, a spy for Cadmon.

When Jace reentered the trance, her muscles relaxed, her chin fell to her chest while her lids fluttered shut. In but a moment, her shoulders jerked, her legs kicked the coffee table, and she flung her head against the cushions. Her mouth sprang open. She screamed, her palms slapping to her temples, her eyes clamping tight as if she were caught in her vision.

When her flailing worsened, Tyr jumped to his feet, snatching Jace into his arms while he tossed the sword to the floor.

Sharing a shocked glance with Brae, Rein shot from his chair. “I can help.”

Though Tyr was a full-blood warlock, he had no healing powers. Rein did. He rested a hand on Jace’s forehead. In seconds she stilled, going limp in her mate’s grasp, but her heart beat strong, her breathing steadied.

“Has this ever happened before?” asked Rein of Tyr.

“Never.”

Rein nodded. “She wasn’t meant to see the sword owner’s face.”

****

Late morning, Indigo sat at the conference table in the room adjoining her brother’s office, twirling a strand of hair around her digit. “So, bro, what’s new?”

“Have you been to the river?”

Alarik eyed her like a breakable ornament. Did she really appear so unstable? When had she allowed her baby brother to become the caregiver? That had to change. “I stopped by before you arranged this little tête-à-tête. Why?”

He lifted a finger to shush her when Ursela swept in wearing an old-fashioned black cloak as though she’d just left a tryout for Wicked. Echo and Eliphias, two department heads at Alarik’s Ministry of Well Being, followed her.

Ursela pulled out a chair while avoiding any unnecessary small talk like hi or how are you or how’s it hanging. “Where’s Rein?”

“On his way,” said Alarik.

On cue, Rein stormed through the door wearing his usual black tacticals, matching T-shirt, and shitkickers. Knives were sheathed in a harness on his wide chest, and Blood’s Kiss hung in its scabbard at his spine.

Roark gave the sword to Rein? What the what?

Her nephew greeted everyone with a manly chin bob before he grabbed a chair. Indigo pointed a finger over her shoulder, miming the blade’s location. She mouthed, “Talk to me later.”

He nodded before he spoke to the group. “This better be good. Shit’s happening everywhere. I have places to be. A long day ahead.”

While Echo curled into a tight ball of fear at her nephew’s bombastic pronouncement, Ursela leaned forward, an elbow on the table, her chin propped in her palm. Clearly, she was smitten with the dangerous boyo. Blood, blades, and fangs.

Alarik cleared his throat. “Ursela requested this meeting, specifying who should attend.”

“Quite so.” The portal maintenance guru shook off her fascination with Rein. “Some time ago, Indigo warned me to monitor the gateways to Earth closely. Thank you, dear.” The conservative, old-school witch squeezed her lips together as if she had swallowed a bitter dram of ale. “Though it has been my task for centuries, added reminders from near strangers are always appreciated.”

“No problem.” Indigo plastered a syrupy smile on her lips, sincerely doubting Ursela’s praise. “I stopped by the river early this morning. Portals starred in a whopperous number of future scenarios. Confuzzling. But keep up the good work. They’re still standing. Though I suspect not for long.”

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