Page 14 of Griffin Undone
Full dark and frigid cold had descended when a lone form stepped from behind a column at the opposite corner of the colonnade that completely surrounded the building. One of the two upturned lights illuminating the entrance caught the shifter in its glare. The male was tall, close to seven feet, his body solid. No one I recognized. Vibrant red hair shone in the dark, slitted eyes giving away his animal form—a reptile of some kind; salamander, maybe a basilisk. If the weaponry strapped to his big body didn’t shout that he wouldn’t put up with any shit, his hard jaw did. Not someone you wanted to mess with.
Too bad for him I had lost the majority of my self-preservation instincts a long time ago. I also had zero illusions that this was the only Archai warrior to arrive with Sun, but I’d go with it for now. I was in a hurry.
The shifter advanced slowly, coming to a stop a few feet away, his stance solid. His face shadowed. On his bare arm flashed a tattoo: the bold symbol of the warrior clan. My clan. A tattoo I’d never receive; I’d still been in training before exile had so rudely interrupted…everything.
Deliberately I prodded the thought, turning it, squeezing it, searching for a reaction. That there wasn’t one didn’t surprise me. Revenge was the only thing that sparked a reaction anymore. Revenge, and now the Archai female lying in my bed.
The male smirked. “The prodigal returns.”
I shrugged, adopted an expression of mock disappointment. “I guess the parade in my honor is out of the question, huh?” Abandoning my spot against a column, I planted myself squarely in the shifter’s path. “Where’s Sun?”
The male’s face blanked. “You don’t get him, not until you prove yourself.”
I snorted. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Look”—I bent forward slightly, ignoring the hand that dropped lightning fast to the weapon strapped on the outside of the male’s thigh—“I don’t have a lot of time, and I’m not up for playing games. I don’t swing that way. Get Sun out here or get fucked. Your choice.” I allowed one side of my mouth to curve into a sarcastic grin. “But trust me, you won’t want to miss what I’m bringing to the party.”
The male didn’t move, didn’t respond, and for a moment I thought they might call my bluff, but a second later the scuff of a boot across concrete echoed down the long side of the building to my right. “Arik.”
Bracing myself, I turned to face my old friend, keeping the other male in my peripheral vision. What I expected to see, I didn’t know, didn’t think I wanted to know, but the moment was unavoidable, so…
He’d aged, just as I had. Broader, stronger. Sun’s hard face was the epitome of a warrior. The king must be proud. But superimposed over the prince’s face was the memory of that first moment, nine hundred years ago, when that warrior’s stoicism had appeared—the moment I had looked up from my knees in front of my parents’ funeral pyre and faced Sun’s sword, the glint of firelight on silver burned into my memory for all eternity. The tattoo covering my scar itched as if fresh. That moment had made me the male I was, and I never forgot it.
Especially now.
Sun’s eyes were shadowed. I would have wondered what he was thinking if it mattered. It didn’t. My friend was gone; this was just another enemy on a very long list.
“It’s been a few years,” Sun said, stopping a yard away.
Yeah, it had. When I hadn’t been running from Maddox, I’d been running from my own clan. When I’d finally gotten my shit together, both sides must’ve been disappointed. I was actually surprised his first question wasn’t, how did you know where we were. The king’s clan had immigrated four hundred years ago, along with theMayflower.
Whatever. I wasn’t here to rehash old news on either side. “Let’s skip the reunion and get down to business.”
Sun shrugged. When he leaned against the nearest column, ankles crossed, I wasn’t fooled. My muscles tensed.
“Why do you need the Aomai?”
“Sorry, that info’s classified. Just me and the healer are on the need-to-know list.”
Sun laughed, the sound anything but amused. “You better add another name to that list, then,” he warned, “because I won’t risk the Aomai without more information. You expect me to believe that after nine hundred years of silence, you need our sacred healer?” He eyed my obviously fit body.
“I don’t expect you to believe anything.” None of them, not one, had believed me in the past. Come to think of it, they’d never bothered to ask in the first place, and everyone standing here knew it. The bitterness of the knowledge tainted my words, mixing with the heavy anticipation in the air.
Sun closed his eyes, and for a moment what I could have sworn was regret flashed across his face. When his eyelids lifted, however, there was only resolve staring back. “You’re an unknown, Arik. Clan comes before all.”
A shaft of something I didn’t want to acknowledge speared my chest. The words we’d lived our lives by—or the first hundred years of my life, in my case.Clan comes before all.I took a breath, blew away the unwanted sentiment.
My turn to shrug. “And we don’t negotiate with terrorists. Whatever.”
“Not terrorists.” Sun’s eyes flashed light. “Murderers.”
“Prove it.”
Sun didn’t budge, didn’t answer. He could’ve been made of stone, and his message couldn’t be more clear.Prove you’re not.
I could make this pissing contest last all night, but the female didn’t have that kind of time. So I conceded, but only so much: I slid a heavy glance toward the shifter observing our standoff.
Sun got the message and jerked his chin, signaling the warrior to stand down, although I noticed his hand went to the hilt of the knife at his waist just in case.
After the echo of the male’s retreating footsteps died down, Sun raised a demanding brow.
