Page 32 of Definitely Dead

Most witches gravitated toward spellcasting and potions, but some had been born with intrinsic abilities beyond the usual. Some could siphon powers and energy from others. Necromancers had been touched by death, giving them a unique set of capabilities. Others specialized in elemental enchantments or protection charms.

Knowing Aster’s magical leanings might provide some kind of clue about his goals.

Erus pursed his lips, a shadowed expression passing over his countenance. “It’s tangled. There’s something else that shouldn’t be there, but I can tell you, at his core, he’s a dream spinner.”

Tyr was on his feet before he had registered the intent to move, a dark, primal growl spilling from his lips.

Dream magic wasn’t just rare or unique. It was a brand of magic most witches didn’t advertise, the kind that made everyone a little uneasy when they heard it. It infected the mind, eroding and manipulating. In its darkest form, it turned dreams into hellscapes and planted seeds that shouldn’t be there.

It all made sense now. Aster’s unusual attachment to his mate. Sunne’s relentless nightmares. He didn’t know what the witch wanted or what he hoped to accomplish, but he wouldn’t rest until he found out.

“Tyr? What is it?” Rushing across the room, Sunne ran directly into his arms, stroking his chest, his neck, and his beard in soothing caresses. “What happened?”

He clutched Sunne to his chest, wrapping him in the protective circle of his arms.

“Where is he?” he demanded, his gaze landing on the empty table by the hearth. “Where the fuck did he go? He was right there!”

He snarled in frustration, his body primed for a confrontation that had never come. Still, he took comfort in the knowledge that Sunne was safe, and for the moment, that would have to be enough. As soon as he got him somewhere more secure, however, he planned to hunt down the slippery bastard.

And when he found him, he would enjoy teaching him why it was a bad idea to fuck with a Guardian’s mate.

“You couldn’t have led with that?” he insisted, jerking his head around to glare at Erus.

“Why would I?”

Though he wanted to growl and rage, it was a fair question. Without context, asking about a witch’s particular variety of magic was about as useful as asking what color eyes they had.

“Led with what?”Sunne asked, his head whipping back and forth between Tyr and Erus.“What happened? What’s going on?”

Recognizing the rising panic, Tyr smoothed the silky strands back from Sunne’s face and stroked his soft cheeks.“Everything will be okay, but we’re going to go stay at the castle for a little while.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll be safe there.”

When Sunne continued to stare at him, his gaze questioning, Tyr sighed and gave him the abridged version of what he had learned from Erus.

“Okay,”Sunne said when he finished.

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say? You were right.”Sunne pursed his lips and glared.“Don’t let it go to your head.”

Smirking at his wry tone, Tyr shifted to the side to speak to Orrin. “I’m taking him to the castle.”

It wasn’t a request, but Orrin nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“And I have a meeting,” Erus announced.

“Please be tactful this time.”

“Asteraki, you wound me.” The god made a big show of pressing his hand over his heart and adopting a sullen expression. “I am the epitome of tact.”

“Of course.” A sardonic grin curved Orrin’s lips as he brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his mate’s shoulder. “That’s why you came home with a black eye and a bruised lip last time.”

“It’s not my fault Hades can’t take a joke.”

Leaving the gods to their bickering, Tyr led his mate across the diner to the exit. Orrin could take them to the castle with a snap of his fingers, but at this rate, it would probably be faster to walk.

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