Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,104

do you know about my brother?” He searched her eyes.

They were open, clear, not a hint of malice or fear in them as she said, “I know about his past. Esher told me everything.”

Good. That was good. But he needed to be sure she knew what she was in for, because when Esher came around, he was going to be delicate. The slightest thing was liable to set him off again.

“When Esher… flips… he’s a different person. He might not remember what he’s done when he comes around.” Daimon held her gaze, needing to know she was listening to him. “He might not want to remember. Esher was never big on killing. Not really. His other side… it doesn’t care. It’s happiest when it’s killing. Esher won’t be strong enough to handle remembering that. Mother said he killed everyone they sent after him. If he remembers that…”

She nodded. “I won’t probe. I promise.”

She tried to pass him, but he didn’t let her.

He looked back at his brother, darkness coursing through him, howling at him to keep everyone away from him and keep him safe. He needed to protect Esher.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Drawing his focus to Cass where she now stood beside him.

Her blue eyes were soft as she murmured, “Let Aiko look after him too.”

It was hard, but somehow Daimon managed to nod and step aside.

Keras remained silent, a sceptical edge to his eyes that Aiko noticed. It was enough to halt her in her tracks.

“I won’t disturb his sleep,” she said, a pleading edge to her expression as she faced his brother. “I promise.”

Keras stared at her for a tense minute.

Finally nodded.

Aiko was quick to move to Esher, to kneel beside him and brush her fingers across his brow.

Daimon looked at Keras.

“We have a wraith to question.”

Chapter 29

Sixty-seven hours, fourteen minutes and twenty-two seconds had passed since Keras had placed a veil on the wraith using his shadows.

Sixty-seven hours, fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds in which he hadn’t slept.

Sixty-seven hours, fourteen minutes and twenty-four seconds in which Eli hadn’t uttered a damned word.

Keras loomed over the daemon they had locked in Esher’s cage in a separate building on the mansion grounds, staring down at him where he dared to sleep.

Sleep.

His head canted to his left, green gaze assessing, hunger igniting.

Hunger to reach between the heavy enchanted bars of the cage and drag the fiend kicking and screaming up from his slumber.

Fatigue blurred his thoughts together into a pleasing stream of bloodshed, a thousand outcomes that flickered before his eyes.

“Keras?” The soft voice belonging to the sorceress invaded his thoughts, purging them from his mind, leaving it blank by the time he looked across at her where she stood in the doorway.

Daimon right behind her.

His brother kept a close eye on him, a wary edge to his gaze and his posture. He was contemplating whisking Cassandra away from him.

Had she told Daimon that he had threatened her?

He doubted it.

He looked into her eyes, seeking the answer there, and she tensed, the briefest tightening of her shoulders that drew a reaction from his brother. Daimon wrapped an arm around her and ushered her into the room. Her confidence returned in a heartbeat, silver stars sparking in her eyes as she narrowed them on Keras.

“We came to relieve you. Ares’s orders. You need to eat.” Daimon kept his distance from Keras.

Kept Cass firmly away from him.

But she hadn’t told him.

It was there in his eyes.

She had kept their conversation to herself.

Most probably a good thing.

If Daimon knew he had threatened her, his brother would want his head. It was right there in his pale blue eyes as they glittered with ice, on the verge of turning white. That dangerous, possessive side of their blood rearing its ugly head.

He scoffed.

That side of his blood was poison.

It caused him nothing but agony.

If he could cut it out of him, he would.

His right hand twitched with the urge to lift to his chest, to sink claws into his flesh to remove the thing responsible for pumping that poison around his system.

Something he was better off without.

He didn’t need a heart.

Cassandra and Daimon stared at him. Waiting.

“Get some rest,” Daimon said, his words carefully weighed, his gaze cautious.

Keras inclined his head and walked to the door, paused there to look back at the sorceress. “Keep him cloaked.”

She must have heard the thinly veiled threat in his voice because her spine stiffened and fire lit her eyes. “I know how to do this