Page 47
His whole body was shaking now, teeth chattering hard enough that Daven could feel it when he caught him. Ryneth’s hands fisted in Daven’s jacket, and it was the first time the other man reached for him, wanting his protection.
It made Daven’s heart nearly burst out of his chest as he hauled Ryneth’s sagging weight against his chest.
“Which blond man did he see today?” Kylix asked, eyes narrowed, molten gold filling his irises.
Ryneth made a weak sound against Daven’s chest. “Blond curls,” he whispered. “In the courtyard…”
Daven looked up. Kylix had gone still.
“Theo,” they said at the same time.
Kylix blew out a breath. “That confirms it.” His multi-slate dinged, but he ignored it. He looked at Ryneth. “The man you saw today was Theo. He’s Bekn’s younger brother, but he’s not the one who hurt you. Bekn Zaid is the one who runs Attica.” Then he turned to Milanov. Milanov went still. “Now that Concordant is on Helion, they’ll be hunting our people.”
Ryneth froze in Daven’s arms. “Hunted,” he choked out. “No. No. No.”
He locked up in Daven’s arms, every muscle going tight. Then he tore free and surged up from the couch, furious and out of reach. “You’re wrong. No one hunts me.”
The silver in his eyes burned white.
“Ryneth, get down,” Daven snapped, reaching for him, but a spark bit into his palm and forced his hand back.
Ryneth was already gone. He looked at Milanov. Then Kylix. “What do you want from me? Why me? I’m nothing. I need to go.”
“Ryneth,” Daven started, but Ryneth bolted for the exit.
“Door,” Milanov ordered.
Vandor stepped in front of him, immovable.
“Let me out!” Ryneth screamed.
Static exploded from him. A blue-white bolt slammed into the obsidian desk, cracking the stone like a gunshot. Another shot tore toward Kylix.
Daven’s air snapped forward and swallowed it before it could hit. The impact rattled the glass walls. “Ryneth, stop!”
“No!”
Another strike caught Daven across the chest, burning through his jacket and biting deep enough to make him grit his teeth.
“Why me?” Ryneth choked as more light burst from his hands, shattering the holo-display on the wall. “What am I to you? A weapon?”
He turned toward Milanov, shaking, light gathering in his palms.
Daven moved. He threw himself straight into the storm, took the hit, and slammed Ryneth back against the desk with the full weight of his body.
“Look at me!” he roared, face inches from Ryneth’s. “Look at me, aethera!”
Ryneth went rigid, his head striking the desk’s surface. Static hissed between them. His eyes locked on Daven’s, wide and wet, his breath breaking apart.
His hand twitched toward Kylix again—
“Enough.”
Milanov stepped forward, his eyes turning a deep amethyst as he stopped every movement. The effect was instant, cutting the static out mid-strike. One moment the air was alive with it. The next, everything went dead.
Daven froze with his air still coiled around his hands. Milanov almost never used that power, and every time he did, it was impossible not to stare.
Ryneth hung where Daven had pinned him, hands still outstretched, fingers curled like he was still trying to strike.
