Esher, Cal and Daimon exchanged a look, one that relayed every drop of the guilt they were feeling.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Valen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Keras held back a sigh as his violet-haired younger brother added a huff, a glower, and Keras waited for his usual theatrics. Valen shrugged. “I’m only coming up with me as the answer to that. Was it me?”
Cal flicked Keras a nervous glance.
Keras sighed. “Marek has a point. Three to a gate is a solid plan but only if that leaves at least three here.”
“I wasn’t thinking.” Cal grimaced, almost a flinch.
Keras did him the courtesy of not leaping on that one by pointing out that he rarely thought things through before acting.
Mostly because he hadn’t been the only one to leap into action.
“It’s my gate,” Esher bit out defensively.
“And I’ve always protected it with him.” Daimon flexed his fingers and frost glittered on his black leather gloves, a sign that his brother’s mood was darkening. Since Cassandra had made him and Ares spell-laced bracelets, their power over ice and fire had been contained and rendered back under their control.
Meaning Daimon and Ares had to lose their temper for it to manifest now.
“Nothing bad happened this time. But this won’t be the last time they try to lure us out just as we are trying to lure them out. We must be on our guard.” Keras swept the two sides of his long black coat back and slipped his hands into his pockets.
Enyo looked down at them.
Awareness washed through him. Not only of the fact she was here beside him, close to him, but of the fact she was curious about something. She never had been good at hiding that emotion. He pulled his hands from his pockets and smoothed his coat over them, casually so as not to draw attention to the fact he didn’t want her gaze on his pockets.
On his pill box.
It had been a mistake to allow his darker side off the leash on the rooftop, and it had been another mistake to take a pill in front of her. He had been desperate to claw back control though, hadn’t wanted her to see just how strong the darkness was in him now. He hadn’t wanted her to see how far he had fallen in their time apart.
He was sure she hadn’t seen him take the pill, but he still felt on edge, waiting for her to ask him what he had done. The way she had looked at him said she hadn’t missed the change in him. If she asked, he would do his damnedest to convince her he had merely taken a moment to rein in his darker side—a side she was well aware existed in him. He would do all in his power to make her believe that, because he didn’t want her asking his brothers questions.
Not when Calistos had seen his pill box.
Not when Ares knew about the drug their father had given him.
Part of him was thankful his brother was unconscious, because it meant she couldn’t ask him about anything and so he couldn’t reveal anything to her, and gods that made him despise himself.
Made him want to reach for another pill to numb that sickening self-hatred.
“The furie was there,” she said, her voice like honey and ambrosia, a sweet drug that addled his mind and somehow calmed the raging need for another pill. “I saw her. She looked like you.”
Enyo shifted her pale green eyes to Marinda and he wanted to growl as they left him, wanted to snarl and order her to look at him again because he needed her eyes on him. He shut down that need, somehow managed to leash it and remain in control.
Marinda rubbed her hand on her loose jeans and held it out to Enyo, her French accent lending a light note to her voice as she said, “Marinda.”
Surprisingly, Enyo took her hand and shook it.
“Enyo.”
It wasn’t like the goddess to be so congenial to a stranger. He recalled how awkward she had been when they had first met, and how on edge and cold she had been with his brothers when she had met them for the first few times too.
In what other ways had she changed since they had parted?
He wanted to know.
He corrected that.
He didn’t want to know.
There was a chance her husband was responsible for this change in her. Just the thought of her with that male had his darkness rising back to the fore.
Her gaze drifted back to him, a frown drawing her fine black eyebrows together. This time, it didn’t calm him. It only stoked the rage, strengthening the black malevolence that coursed through his veins.
“In the future, no one makes a move until we have a plan.” Keras shifted a step away from her, a need to escape flooding him as his mood took a dangerous turn. “I should check on Ares.”
“What if the enemy comes here?” Cal said, and he wanted to curse his brother for drawing out the meeting when he needed a moment to get himself back under control, a moment for his pill to kick in.
A moment to catch his breath.
To let it sink in that it really was Enyo beside him.
“I don’t think she will,” Enyo said, drawing his gaze to her again.
Some of the darkness abated, and he wasn’t sure whether it was his pill finally beginning to take hold or her that caused it to happen.
“What makes you say that?” Daimon voiced the question that rose within Keras.
“When she caught sight of me, she ran.” Enyo looked at each of his brothers and their women in turn, singling out Daimon, Esher and Calistos and making Keras want to break all their necks.
He subtly curled his fingers into fists and clenched them so hard his bones hurt as he tamped down that black urge.
“I did notice that. I thought it was just the effect you had on people.” Daimon snapped his mouth shut, the smile that had been blooming on his lips dying as Enyo narrowed her eyes on him.
And Keras fought to hold back his growl.
He managed it, but couldn’t stop his fangs from descending.
Or his nails from transforming into short claws that bit into his palms.
“Did she lose her sense of humour?” Daimon whispered out of the corner of his mouth as he leaned towards Marek.
“I am not sure she ever had one,” Marek murmured, barely moving his lips.
“Must I warn you to be civil and respectful to our guest while she is here?” Keras struggled to keep his voice calm and even, battling the urge to snarl at his brothers, to teach them to be those two things to her by bashing their heads together.
And then ripping their throats out.
“So.” Daimon cleared his throat. Nervously. “Meadow takes one look at Enyo and flees, leaving her legion of lackeys to die painfully. Meaning, Enyo is good to have on our side, but we have a problem. Meadow can open the gate, and I’m guessing she’s the one using Cassandra’s magic to their advantage. Let’s not gloss over the fact those daemons were there in broad daylight.”
“Somewhat problematic.” Marek frowned at the floor. “We have no way of knowing how much of our blood they were able to pull from previous battlefields. It might be that this was their one shot at using spells to cloak their warriors from the sunlight.”
“Or it might be this was all a show to scare us… flashing the fact they can use magic now.” Cal’s theory sounded more promising.
Which was a first.
“Either way, we need to be more careful,” Keras said, hoping to drive his point home.
It didn’t matter whether the furie could use some spells or whether she couldn’t. All that mattered was winning this war.