the council sends a messenger, you’ll understand. Otherwise, I’ll explain it later.” Light green eyes focused on Sethios once more. “Let’s go.”
“You really need to reconsider your approach with Astasiya,” Sethios advised as he and Gabriel materialized on the shores of Maine. The actual city name had escaped Sethios on the way, his head clouded and aching from Caro’s visual attack.
He felt the wrongness in this approach even as they arrived, his stomach twisting with dread. Caro had been trying to tell him something.
Yet, as he glanced around, he recognized all the images from the ones in his head. They’d definitely found the right location.
“Recognize anything?” Gabriel asked, ignoring Sethios’s commentary on Astasiya.
Typical. The Seraphim preferred logic and practicality over emotions.
“It’s definitely the place she showed me,” Sethios replied. “But otherwise, no. I don’t recognize it. Nor do I sense her.”
The only indication Gabriel gave that he’d heard Sethios was a slight twist of his lips that served as the Seraphim’s equivalent of a frown. He walked along the shoreline, his hands loose at his sides. He had at least three guns strapped to his person, all concealed by his brown leather jacket. Sethios suspected he had a knife in his boot as well, tucked securely beneath his jeans.
Unlike Gabriel, Sethios hadn’t bothered with a single weapon. His hypnosis and manipulation abilities made such items irrelevant. He also refused to touch a knife until he had Caro back. Those were her preferred items in a fight. He wouldn’t hold one again until she stood before him. Then he’d either hand it to her as a gift or use it in another manner. Preferably the sexual kind.
“I left Astasiya behind as a protective measure,” Gabriel said without looking at him. His light blond hair practically glowed, the sun high in the sky in this area of the world. “It’s only a matter of time before the council sends someone to check in on my estate. They’ll have sensed all the immortal traffic in and out of my home.”
He turned then, his expression far more tired than Sethios had ever seen it. That appeared to be the common thing among them all at the moment.
“I don’t know how they’re going to react, Sethios. But it won’t be good.”
Sethios frowned. “Why do I feel like you brought me here for a reason, Gabriel?”
“I merely took advantage of an opportunity to have a moment alone with you,” the Seraphim admitted. “You are the only one other than Leela and Vera who understands our politics. The council isn’t going to sit by and allow me to harbor abominations.”
“So your response to that threat was to leave my daughter in charge and steal me away for a moment?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, the unruly ends touching his ears. “The council won’t touch Stas. She’s too valuable to them. But they may try to take Skye. Not to mention Elizabeth. If they find out she’s pregnant...” He trailed off, flinching at wherever his mind went. “We’re in trouble, Sethios. Hiding Owen was one thing—he kept to himself and never left. But now the Hydraians are teleporting in and out of my house like it’s a damn airport.”
“Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I have. No one listens to me.”
“So you’re hoping I can make them see reason,” Sethios translated. “And you brought me to Maine for that conversation?”
“As I said, I took advantage of an opportunity. Caro provided the location.”
“Yes, by showing you an eighteen-year-old memory,” a deep voice murmured. “I expected it to be sooner now that you’ve regained your senses. Which makes me wonder about your Seraphim’s current mental condition.”
Ice drizzled through Sethios’s veins as his father fully materialized beside them, the olive-toned skin of his bald head gleaming in the afternoon sun. His black wings disappeared, leaving him clad in a smart tailored suit, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and lacking a tie.
“Don’t fight me. Don’t mist. Don’t run.” The commands left Osiris’s mouth in rapid succession, each statement underlined in persuasion. “Actually, don’t move your legs at all. I have things to say and would prefer to make this quick, given the circumstances of our meeting.”
“Hello, Father,” Sethios greeted on instinct, his millennia of existence aiding his bored tone. He refused to show fear around this man. Anger, maybe. But nothing else.
This is what you were trying to tell me, wasn’t it, angel? The black blur had been Osiris. But this was an interesting development. His father had referred to