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Hagen looks at the pastries like they might make him grow a third arm, but then he turns to her. “Thank you, Kat.”
“Oh, and I packed up a few boxes for you to take back to the pack.”
“That’s really kind of you.”
“I know how you like the raspberry ones.” She takes the tray and holds it out for him.
“I do. Thank you.” He picks up the pastry and holds it between his thumb and forefinger. It’s gone in one bite, and three more follow.
Eros takes one too. “Honey and nuts. This reminds me of a pastry one of the teahouses makes back home.”
“Does it?” Kat smiles and looks down at her hands.
The silence makes me twitch. Around the apartment, there are scattered pictures of Arthur and Kat with another male who must be Stavros. He looks familiar, very familiar, but I can’t put my finger on why.
“How long have you been here?” Eros takes another bite, and I succumb, taking one too. Eros is right—it tastes just like a Permula cake from the southside teahouse. The crust, though, is a little different. The bells on the shop door downstairs ring.
“We’re upstairs.” Arthur’s voice projects through the mustard door.
“You said we have guests. Hagen!” Stavros’s voice is deep, and it hits me. He has the Braesen lilt, the same one Constantine, my mother’s last mate, has.
Stavros steps into the crowded room and slaps Hagen on his back. Luckily, it’s between bites of cake. “And oh.” He stops and clears his throat. He points at Eros and me. “I’m not going back.”
“Honey.” Kat stands. “I don’t think they’re here to take you back. Otherwise we would never have let Hagen bring them in. Right, Hagen? They’re not here to take him back.”
Hagen nods. “No, they’re not here to take you anywhere. We need your help, or rather, they do.”
“Right.” Stavros assumes a resting military position, his hands behind his back, his feet shoulder-width apart. “What do you need help with?”
“My sister, Marina Herod. She’s been taken by the Kraken. Given, actually, but not by herself or our family. Stolen.”
“A mermaid stolen? Ho! That’s rotten shrimp shells.” He grasps his chin. “I don’t know how I can help you.”
“You don’t know anything about Kraken?” I ask.
Kat raises her eyebrows at him.
“You really want me to help them?” He takes Kat’s hands.
“Hagen doesn’t bring people here, not ones he doesn’t trust.” Kat stares into his eyes.
“I don’t want us in the middle of this war,” Stavros replies. He turns and glares at Eros.
“We don’t want war. I have no beef with the Skyrothasians. In fact, I think there are answers just waiting to be discovered.” I don’t want to bring up Annabelle or the gene.
“Oh, they were working on a cure before I left.” Stavros is back in his military stance.
Arthur shakes his head. “If your dome had the cure for the population crisis, why would they have gone after the Skyrothasian princess? Why would they not have taken the cure and made a stronger nation?”
Stavros glares at Arthur. It’s a glare I’ve seen my fathers give each other more than once.
“Tell them, then.” Arthur cocks his head to us.
“I know what I saw.” Stavros nods. “Back in the day, geminae weren’t treated like they are now. At least, not in Braesen. The same goes for my type. Half-Kraken, half-merman. I was taken from my Kraken mother and assigned a pod to raise me. They had me living in the livestock dome. With the cattle and sheep. There used to be a lot more land mammal domes. I worked hard and was placed on a sub. I studied diligently, and when I left the Veiled City, I had a forty in language.” He turns to Arthur and Kat. “That’s a really high rank.”
“We know.” Kat smiles. Hell, if I had a forty ranking in languages, I would remind my family all the time too.
“Right.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “They did tests on me. So many tests. There weren’t many hybrids, and they wanted to know what would happen if I had a podlet and she was a female. Tests I don’t want to talk about. I had come up with a plan for escape, but then I was granted a position on a sub. I don’t know why or how, but I’m grateful for it. So grateful. When we made our way close to the coastline, I faked my own death. A bag of blood, on a routine scouting mission, and I was away. I’m never going back.”
