Page 12 of Gryphon’s Fire

Cupping my chin, Lazarus tilted my head up and repeated, “Tell me. Who needs to die? Is it this Jaakobah? Point me in their direction, and I will dispatch them immediately.”

The thought was so absurd, so completely batshit crazy that I laughed. It started out low and stilted but soon developed into the type of laughter that was either maniacal or toxic purge. Soon those uncontrolled guffaws turned into broken sobs. The emotions I’d been fighting, that I’d been keeping under lock and key, broke free.

My face was wet, soaked with the tears I’d fought for so damn long. I’d be embarrassed later. Right now, there was no holding them in. The dam had well and truly broken.

“Oh, Keir.” Lazarus’s fingers gentled, cradling my face. Horns disappearing, the brilliant blue returned to Lazarus’s eyes, becoming sparkling sapphires once more. “I am here. Whatever this is, you do not have to do it alone.”

Losing my battle with dignity, I pressed my forehead into Lazarus’s chest. “I hate that name,” I said, voice mumbled by Lazarus’s shirt. “I hate it with everything I have, with every fiber of my being.”

Lazarus’s fingers gently carded through my hair. The tips of his claws gently scraping across my scalp. “Then I hate it too.”

I choked, making a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Lazarus agreed. “No one is allowed to cause you this level of grief. I will not tolerate it.” Lazarus’s arms wrapped around me, holding me close as the tears continued falling. Apparently, over two centuries of grief required more than a few moments of release. How much time my grief would demand was yet to be determined. That thought should have frightened me. Instead, I felt nothing but comfort.

I wasn’t alone. Goddess, could that really be true?

Six

Lazarus

The desire to maim had rarely felt this strong. The emotion rivaled the need I’d felt with Verona. The difference was that I’d gone into that fight expecting defeat. My best chance had been holding her off long enough for Thalia’s guards to arrive.

This was different. Gryphons were mighty warriors. Nothing could or would take that away from them. But wyvern were stronger. I was far deadlier than any singular gryphon walking the planet. That was assuming this Jaakobah was a gryphon. That was an assumption that needed clarified as soon as Keir was able.

I stood there, cradling Keir to my chest as his tears soaked through my shirt, dampening my skin. Given his deep well of grief, I would not have wanted to be anywhere else. Time became inconsequential—a thing others were subject to, but not us. Not here. Not within the confines of the cozy den Keir had made.

And yet it seemed time stopped for no one. Vidia’s eggs reminded me of that fact when the violet one rustled. A barely audible pecking sounded from within. Or perhaps it was a scratch. A rake of infantile claws indicating they would not be contained much longer. Not to be outdone, the other egg sounded as well.

I smiled despite the sour tang of Keir’s distress permeating the air. Vidia’s offspring were well and were developing rapidly. They seemed so in tune with Keir that I wondered if their activity was in response to his sorrow. That thought tempered the grin tilting my lips.

Lost to his own sadness, Keir missed the eggs’ movements and sounds. By the time Keir pulled away, Vidia’s offspring were quiet once more.

“I’m sorry,” Keir needlessly apologized while uselessly wiping at my shirt. “Fuck, that’s gross.” His nose scrunched as he loudly sniffed. “We’re both snotty because of me.”

Without a thought, I unbuttoned my shirt and discarded it. I wanted to think Keir’s deep inhale was due to appreciation regarding my physique and not the scars crisscrossing my torso. “The shirt is inconsequential,” I said while leading Keir from the room and into the adjoining kitchen. The dinner Keir had masterfully created earlier sat on top of the stove, covered in aluminum foil. It was most likely still warm, but not piping hot as Keir had intended. I absently wondered if there were any potatoes left or if Henry had been true to his word and eaten them all.

Settling Keir into one of his kitchen chairs, I turned my attention to the ever-present teapot. The tea was, at best, lukewarm. Turning the stove back on, I set a fresh kettle on to boil before turning my attention back to the gryphon who’d unexpectedly clawed his way into my heart and soul. Keir fit so perfectly that it was a wonder I spent my whole life unaware that this piece was missing.

Crouching, I placed my hands on Keir’s thighs, resting my palms there as his own hands found their way to mine. “Tell me about Jaakobah,” I said. It wasn’t an order, not that Keir would ever take orders from me. It was a request I hoped Keir would willingly answer. “Tell me why that name stirs up so much animosity and hatred.” Because it was hatred. Of that, I was certain.

Keir’s lips thinned and twisted. His bloodshot, puffy eyes narrowed and his amber gaze sharpened. “Jaakobah is a predator. He is the worst type of individual. Jaakobah preys on uncertainty and promises protection from those irrational fears. He fuels the flames of distrust and through his charm, manipulation, and empty promises, Jaakobah makes those around him believe salvation will only be found through him.”

Each word sounded like ground glass—cutting and sharp. They were words that had been carefully curated over decades of growing rage. “He sounds lovely,” I jested. “Just the type of individual who pops up every few centuries, jumping from species to species, preying on festering mistrust.” Having lived centuries myself, I’d seen the pattern repeat time and time again. Fairy had put an end to some of the more destructive outcomes of such individuals, protecting the Earth and its remaining inhabitants after Fairy purged any and all dissenters.

Fairy law would keep the Earth turning. It would protect the majority while allowing the minority to slip through the cracks. Unless Fairy was challenged directly, individuals like Jaakobah were allowed to wreak their havoc. The trick was staying within your lane and not reaching too far. Essentially staying below Fairy’s radar.

You’d think that would be easy. It wasn’t. It was the Achilles’ heel of all those who craved power. It was never enough. Eventually, they’d make a mistake and catch Fairy’s attention. Unfortunately, the damage had often been done and the casualties littering the road to their downfall were tragically numerous.

It sounded like this Jaakobah was such an individual.

“A gryphon?” I asked for clarity’s sake.

Keir nodded. “A powerful one.” With a wry, painful smile, Keir added, “But with no family lineage to speak of. Flights have distinctive hierarchies.” Leaning back into his chair, Keir pulled his hands from mine, rubbing his palms across his face. “Jaakobah is certainly no Montenegro.”

My fingers tightened on Keir’s legs. The implication wasn’t so much in Keir’s words but the hesitant glance he sent my way. I may not know a lot about gryphon politics, but Montenegro was as close to royalty as gryphons got. “Keir, what is your last name?” It struck me that I’d never heard it spoken.

This time, Keir’s smile was decidedly sad. “I believe you already know.”