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Opening the lid to his coffee, Jeremiah blew a small stream of hellfire to warm the liquid back up. He heard one of the gate guards suck in a breath and the familiar sound of people reaching for weapons. He ignored them, even as Priest stiffened on his right and Knight on his left. Storm brought up the rear, so he was entirely protected if someone decided to get a little… overexcited.
“If we could speed this along,” Priest drawled. His tone held a warning that most people took seriously, considering he wasn’t just a Demon, but he was an Incubus. Most Demons had the ability to turn their powers on and off at will, but Incubi struggled more than others because they were always, always hungry.
The guard to their left swallowed thickly, but the one making a quick approach—a hulking Dragon who looked oddly familiar—just smiled. “Don’t mind them. They’re still in training.”
Before Jeremiah could say anything, he was elbowed out of the way, and Storm was wrapping his massive arms around the guard. They both shared the same dark umber skin and mahogany eyes, though the guard was definitely taller and broader than their team member.
It was obvious they didn’t just share the same species, but they were very clearly related.
“This is my asshole big brother,” Storm said with a shit-eating grin. He was normally as stone-faced as a damn Gargoyle around outsiders, so it was interesting to see how profoundly his face shifted at having his family near.
Jeremiah fought back the ugly little surge of jealousy and reminded himself he didn’t need blood family like that because he had this. He had his team. He had Knight and Priest, who were the sole reason he was there standing there that day. They’d started the Trident Agency with him years ago and stood by him through all the bullshit they’d gone through in the beginning. And now they had Storm and Slate, adding to their team and family.
He didn’t need anything else. He had more than most.
He cleared his throat and extended his hand, and it said something about Storm’s brother that he didn’t hesitate or flinch before shaking it.
“It’s a pleasure. I’m Thorne, head guard here at the palace, and I’ll be with you during the interview today. My team will be providing any additional security you feel your team might need.”
Knight let out a small cough, and Jeremiah could see his eyes wrinkle with a smirk behind his sunglasses. “Assuming we take the contract.”
Storm rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’s always a dick. This is—”
“Priest,” the Demon said, quickly taking Jeremiah’s place in the handshake line. “That’s Knight, but he won’t shake your hand. Vampire thing,” he added, and no one called him out on the bullshit. Knight didn’t shake hands because he couldn’t stand being touched by people he didn’t trust, but it was easier to just blame it on his condition. “And this is Sunshine, our fearless leader.”
“Jeremiah Avril,” he said with a glower. The others went by their code names, having adopted them as nicknames years ago, but Jeremiah’s was a poke at him being perpetually grumpy, so he used his real name in professional settings, even if he couldn’t get the team to call him by it.
Avril was the sole possession he had left from when his parents abandoned him on the streets at the tender age of three. He couldn’t remember if it had belonged to his mother or father, but he’d kept it anyway as a reminder that no matter how much he earned or achieved, he couldn’t forget where he came from.
Thorne smiled at each of them, then beckoned them along through the main foyer doors. “Easton’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to put faces to the names though. I’m sure most of the stories are exaggerations.”
Storm shoved his brother good-naturedly. “Shut up.”
“I’m sure they’re all true,” Priest butted in, grinning widely. “Especially all the ones about Storm—sorry, Easton—doing late-night flights to get us all tacos after a long day.”
Thorne gave his brother an unimpressed look, but the corners of his mouth were twitching.
Jeremiah ignored the banter and took in the surroundings, not really impressed by palaces anymore. Instead, all he could see were little nooks and crannies where an attacker could slip past the royal guard and attack the family. Extravagance always led to a false sense of security, and that was how kingdoms toppled.
He made mental notes as they were led up a staircase, down a massive corridor with mirrors on either side, and through an atrium with a fountain. He could taste the power of the water on the air as it gently hit his heated skin. The euphoria of Siren Water didn’t work on him… much. It gave him a few minutes of a high, but it left as quickly as it came, and he always felt a little shitty after.
He caught Knight’s eye, and he just shook his head and rolled his eyes. Jeremiah was glad to know they were on the same page about all this… nonsense.
Thorne came to a halt in front of a pair of guarded, massive double doors, intricately carved with some ocean scene featuring Sirens wrapping long tails around each other, holding giant spears. He vaguely knew there had been some war centuries ago between the Sirens and other ocean shifters, but it wasn’t something he ever paid close attention to.
Each species had their own origin myths, and for a long while, Sirens had been almost as feared as Hellhounds. After all, it was hard not to worry about a creature who could control you with a single spoken word.
Except Sirens were beautiful, and they had done their part in creating a magical device—often worn as a pendant or ring—that could suppress their Voice. That, and keeping to their own borders, had set most other kingdoms at ease, though he’d heard plenty of whispers from both human and Supes alike that they needed to be further restrained.
It was why the attack hadn’t surprised him.
It was why he was surprised the human-Siren marriage had lasted for this long.
“Give me one moment to make sure they’re ready for you,” Thorne said.
The two guards let him slip past, and Priest let out a sigh, sagging against Jeremiah’s arm and fluttering his lashes at him. “Gods, Sunshine, you’re so warm. Hold me.”
“No,” Jeremiah said flatly, keeping his attention on the closed door in front of them.
