the wall and his lips parted. He shoved a hand through his sandy-blond hair, then he finally muttered, “Nope, I’m done with talking about Nexi running off and Haven’s mistakes.”
Without another word, he followed Haven.
Kyden shook his head, understanding Finn’s frustration. This had become a habit of Nexi’s. He strode forward, carried on through the hallway, and soon he entered the Council’s Foyer. White stone walls surrounded him, stretching into a vaulted ceiling. To his right, four windows with intricate stone carvings decorated the sides, and a warm breeze soared through the room, carrying scents from the gardens outside.
He stopped, glancing to the Council’s Hall arched doorway, considering telling the Otherworld’s leaders, the Council, what Nexi had done again. He decided against it. No doubt they would hear of it from Haven soon enough, and he’d rather get Nexi home before Briggs mauled her.
Settling in front of the portal’s large wooden door, he gripped the wrought iron handle, and stepped over the threshold. He focused on thoughts of Briggs’s home in Cache Valley, Utah, to teleport him into the Earthworld.
The bright light flickered before his closed eyes and the swirling wind from the vortex squeezed his body. Only a split second passed before his boots connected with hard ground, and the rapid wind was replaced by the sweet scent of evergreen trees.
He opened his eyes to a dark night, understanding why supernaturals chose to live in this realm. He even understood why some guardians refused to protect the Otherworld and join the Council’s Guard. Earth was beautiful. But home to him was the Otherworld—maybe because guardians weren’t born from this land; they had originated from the Otherworld. Regardless, he’d always experienced the call to the join the Guard, and he also knew he’d never set down roots in the Earthworld.
Besides, his reasons weren’t only personal: supernaturals in the last few centuries had flourished. During the eighteenth century, the Council had created new laws. Only the Council’s Guard or those in training to join the Guard—including their families—were allowed to stay in the Otherworld. The land simply wasn’t big enough to build enough homes and the castle couldn’t support the size of the rapidly expanding supernatural population.
Earth had the space, then some.
Taking in his surroundings, Kyden noticed no noise came from the cabin in front of him, but the light from the living room indicated Briggs was home. He strode forward and, once at the front door, he knocked.
A moment later, it opened to a frowning Briggs. “’Bout time you showed up.”
Kyden cupped his friend’s shoulder. “Where is she?”
Briggs opened the door wider and Kyden stepped into the cabin, discovering Nexi sitting on the couch near the woodstove. Her arms were folded, leg crossed over her knee, which she bounced with clear irritation, and a familiar scowl he’d seen for weeks now marred her face. “How’d that go for you?”
Her hazel eyes narrowed.
Briggs shut the door behind Kyden, then he pulled a small silver dagger with a bejeweled handle from his back pocket. “She had this with her.”
Kyden took the dagger. “Where’d you get the knife?”
“It’s Haven’s,” she retorted. “I borrowed it.”
He slid the dagger into his scabbard in front of his sword. “You shouldn’t have a weapon until you know how to use it.”
She flicked her long, dirty-blonde hair over her shoulder. “Well, if someone would teach me, then this wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”
Briggs smirked.
While Kyden shared in his friend’s amusement over the smart-mouthed woman—and he rather enjoyed that smart mouth—she had become a real problem. Her present behavior was classic Nexi Jones. She might be new to the Otherworld, but her brisk confidence would make most believe she’d never left the magical realm.
Dropping onto the couch across from her, Kyden shifted the sword strapped to his back to rest upon the cushion, when Briggs asked, “Hungry?”
The warm, comforting scent of home cooking drifting through the air reminded Kyden he hadn’t eaten for hours. “Always.”
In the kitchenette behind Nexi’s couch, Briggs grabbed two wooden bowls out of the cupboard. He removed the lid from an old steel pot on the stove, and scooped out what smelled like beef stew.
With bowls in hand, Briggs returned and placed a bowl on the coffee table in front of Nexi and she glared at the dinner. Then Briggs handed Kyden a bowl before he sat next to her, looking at Kyden. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” He gestured toward the fuming woman. “And why this little darling wanted