Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(63)

“I—”

“Don’t say you can’t. Just take it. I can get another.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Don’t test me, woman. Just take it.”

With a shrug, she took the blade from his hand. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Yeah . . . well . . . whatever.”

“You know,” she said, running her hand over the weapon, “I think I’ll just deal with all this head-on.”

“Deal with what head-on?”

She shrugged. “Life. I keep searching. Keep looking. Trying to solve old problems. Instead of going for the problem sitting right in front of me. Understand?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Guess I’m babbling. It just . . . it seems that sometimes, you’re dealing with the old, instead of facing the new. And when you do that, your old enemy comes up right behind ya and leaves you dead in the dust.”

“Secure him!” Brannie yelled, and Gaius turned to see if he could make out what was going on a few dozen feet behind him. Sure everything was fine with his team, Gaius turned back to the woman—but she was gone.

Gaius turned in circles trying to find her, expecting to see her walking off somewhere, but . . . no. She was gone.

Perhaps he should have hired her. A woman who moved that stealthily would be a definite asset.

Gaius returned to the others to find his cousin awake but finally subdued enough to no longer be fighting his captors.

Once he was standing in front of Didacus, Gaius just stared at him. What was he doing? Why was he wasting any more of his time on this? Eight months and he’d found out nothing about Vateria. And all the while, the curse of Chramnesind continued to spread over his lands.

The problem sitting right in front of him.

Aggie? Gaius called out to her.

Gaius! Is everything all right?

Yes. I have Didacus.

He heard his sister’s snort in his head, could imagine her dramatically rolling her eyes. So?

Exactly. I fear, sister . . . I fear I will never find Vateria. And I’m thinking maybe we should no longer be bothering.

Aggie was silent for a bit before she replied, Before you left, brother, I would have punched you in the throat for even suggesting we let her go. That we not find her.

And I would have let you, he answered.

But I’ve got the Senate on my ass; Aunt Laetitia going on and on about the Gabinius family and how they’re becoming a problem—and they kind of are; the grain imports are low this harvest, which means overpricing from the merchants; and there’s something unclean in the water . . . so I must deal with that.

Gaius grinned. You’re enjoying it all, aren’t you?

I am. To be honest, other than worrying about you looking for Vateria, I haven’t thought about that slit in ages.

Good.

Besides, we might have a bigger worry.

Which is?

Rumor is that Annwyl has successfully pushed the killer Chramnesind cults out of the Southlands territories . . . and right into ours.

Balls.

Exactly. I have several legions out looking for—

No. Call them back.

But—

Trust me. They tried the same thing with Annwyl. Pulling her army apart. Then they’ll strike. So pull our legions back.

All right. But what about the priests and priestesses who reside in our empire? Who expect our protection.

Gaius stood tall, his eyes narrowing. Where did you send the first legion?

To the Priests of the God of Suffering.

He knew the location. Knew of the head priest. All right.

And when will you be home?

Soon.

“Gaius?” Brannie asked. “Everything all right?”

“Everything is fine. Just checking with my sister.”

Gaius faced Brannie and pulled the sword she had hanging from her belt and swung it once, cutting Didacus’s head in half. He handed the blade back to her.

“Let’s go. We head back to Sovereign territories immediately.”

She stared at the gore-covered weapon for several seconds before looking up at Gaius.

“What happened to your own sword?”

“Gave it away. But I need a new gladius. These oversized, cumbersome Southlander swords are ridiculous.”

“What’s wrong with our swords?” Brannie demanded, the pair walking away seconds before Didacus’s body returned to its natural dragon form, destroying many trees in the process.

“They’re useless.”

“Mine seemed to do fine with your cousin’s head!”

Brigida had been napping on a pile of books when she snapped awake. For a few seconds, she was panicked. She felt lost. Incoherent. She hadn’t felt that way in so long, she was almost positive she’d been a young one again. Still hanging on to her mother’s tail.

“If you’d been anyone else,” a voice from a dark corner told her, “you’d have woken up screaming.”

Brigida spun around, her tail sending magick text flying across the room, the tip raised, ready to strike.

After a moment of silence, the darkness cleared and Brigida let out a breath. “It’s just you.”

Princess Rhianwen gazed at Brigida in a way that made her feel—for once—surprisingly uncomfortable. No one made her feel uncomfortable. Brigida made others feel uncomfortable. She enjoyed it, feeding off their fear.