He didn’t want to die.
He didn’t.
Darkness flooded him, hatred aimed at himself, a black dangerous emotion that roused a need for violence, for pain. For bloodshed. He stared at the bottle, fighting the urge to drink it all, to drown himself in it in some twisted hope that something would happen.
What?
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen. Did he want to feel something? Drown the pain of seeing Enyo again?
Destroy this world?
Himself?
He wasn’t sure which of those things he wanted. His fangs descended as he growled again, as he shoved a hand through his hair and clawed it back. What did he want?
What did it matter?
He unscrewed the cap of the bottle.
Froze when his phone vibrated.
He set the bottle down and reached for it instead, pulling it from his left pocket.
A message.
From Valen.
Five words that had him forgetting the vodka.
Big Trouble in Little Tokyo.
Chapter 4
It only took Enyo ten minutes to muster the courage to open the heavy wooden gate set into the high white wall of the mansion in Tokyo. The moment she did, the power of the wards that protected the house and grounds wrapped around her. It pushed against her at first, and she stilled, let the wards do their work to detect whether she was friend or foe.
Relief washed through her when she wasn’t thrown back out into the street by them. None of the brothers had banned her from this sacred place. That gave her hope and boosted her courage.
She peeked around the thick dark panel of the gate, gaze scanning the entire front garden of the impressive single-storey building. It was beautiful, the white walls a contrast to the ancient dark wooden pillars and beams, and the glazed ribbed grey tiles of the roof that swept in a gentle curve to end in circular caps decorated with various animals and flowers.
No one was in the garden, so she eased inside and closed the gate behind her.
She followed the broad steppingstones that cut through the pale gravel, winding between huge stone lanterns and around elegantly clipped topiary.
At the porch, she followed the quaint custom of the country, removing her boots and placing them on a wooden rack with the others.
A lot of others.
The last time she had dared to come to this place, only to look from a distance at it, there had been a few pairs of shoes on the rack, one for each brother. Now there was feminine footwear mixed in with their heavy boots.
Times really had changed.
Voices came from beyond the half-opened door. She picked out a few of them, recognising Valen as he swore about something, and Daimon and Calistos too.
They all sounded on edge.
Because of her?
Had Keras told them she had come to visit him and that she had angered him?
Or perhaps it was because she had dared to enter the grounds of the mansion without permission.
She pushed the door open, an apology for entering unannounced rising to the tip of her tongue.
A blonde woman rushed past her, hot on the heels of Calistos.
Enyo’s gaze tracked them as they disappeared around a corner to her left.
“The spell is holding,” a black-haired woman said, her thick Russian accent making her sound angry when she didn’t feel it to Enyo. “His fire is under control for now. The bracelet I made—”
“I don’t like that this spell of yours is only holding and my brother’s fire is under control for now. I want a more permanent solution,” Esher snapped, his blue eyes dangerously bright.
Beside him, a pretty Japanese woman petted his arm. “Everything will be fine. Please calm down.”
He spared the petite black-haired female a glance, and then his gaze strayed back to her and lingered. “I am trying… but Ares is in danger of burning the entire building down.”
She smiled softly, but said nothing.
“Well, we can’t use the outbuilding because it’s being used for cold storage,” Daimon put in.
“Cold storage?” Curiosity pulled those words from Enyo.
Everyone glanced at her, none of them looking surprised to see her.
“We have two of the enemy dead and on ice. We’re keeping them away from the enemy in the hope they might want them back.” Marek ran a hand around the back of his neck and then rubbed his left shoulder through his black linen shirt.
A woman with caramel-coloured wavy hair stepped up behind him and kneaded his shoulders, her soft voice lightly accented with a Spanish note as she spoke. “You’re too tense. I’m too tense.”
“Dial it back,” Valen barked as he paced across the golden mats. “I’m on edge enough as it is.”
Enyo wasn’t sure what his problem was, but as she looked at each brother in turn, she noticed that he wasn’t the only one who looked on edge. They all did.
“Marek.” Daimon scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Just deal with her. We have this.”
“Watch your tone, little brother.” Marek glared at him, but it faded as he looked at the rest of his brothers and seemed to notice the strain that showed on all their faces.
Strain that only increased Enyo’s sense of curiosity.
He took hold of Caterina’s hand and led her away.
They both paused as Cal bit out, “Maybe take her to Scotland or something. I can’t handle this shit.”
Marek glowered at Cal and then disappeared, leaving swirling black ribbons of smoke behind.
“Thank fuck,” Valen muttered, and she didn’t miss how a lot of the tension drained from the room, especially the brothers. He glanced at her, his golden eyes losing their brightness as he finally stopped pacing. “Fun fact. Marek’s girl-fiend has a hefty dose of succubus in her and her living in this house with everyone else is a bloody nightmare.”
That explained one thing for her, but she still wanted to know about the other.
“If the two you have in cold storage are dead, what use are they to the enemy?”
“Cass here is a sorceress.” Daimon gestured to the black-haired woman beside him, his pale blue eyes warming as he gazed at her. Enyo presumed Cass was Daimon’s lover. “She knows necromancy magic and the enemy want her so they can bring their dead back… since we killed their necromancer.”
Interesting.
Almost as interesting as the fact none of the brothers seemed at all bothered by her presence. It was as if it was perfectly natural for her to be standing here among everyone, part of the team.
“What are you doing?” Cal frowned at Esher and then looked at his brothers. “What is he doing?”
Esher didn’t look up from his phone. “Ordering a tent.”
“A tent?” Valen crossed the room to him and swiped his phone from him, earning a black look from Esher. “Seriously? He was ordering a tent. What the hell, man? Have a heart. Your big bro is out cold after closing a gate, and you want him to do what… sleep it off in the garden?”
Esher snatched his phone back, his eyes narrowing on Valen. “Fine, he can sleep it off in the bath.”
“He’ll drown.” Daimon held his hands up when Esher turned his glare on him. “Think about Megan. You want Megan hanging out at the bath all hours of the day and night to watch over him?”
“The babe,” Esher murmured, his frown fading as his gaze lost focus.