The sound of Gandriel's light humming was a comfort to Celeste as they strode down the cobbled streets of Portmouth toward the docks, only the light of the stars and the few remaining lit lanterns illuminating their way. She'd been thankful when his sunny demeanor had returned with vigor after his mother's impromptu visit.
Much to her delight, Marianna's charismatic humor had been nearly as brazen as her presence and Celeste had spent most of the night in the female's company in hysterics, chuckling at the recounting of Gandriel's most infamous adventures and mistakes. Though, in hindsight, she still wasn't certain if the incessant giggling was entirely a result of the stories or thanks to the copious amounts of wine Marianna had kept pouring. It had left even her head swimming.
The female certainly knew how to hold her liquor, leaving her and Anelisse holding one another as they'd stumbled their way back to their apartment, following after Marianna's high-pitched cackling as she chattered animatedly to her beaming son. To Celeste's disappointment the female had left early the following morning, pressing chaste kisses to all of their cheeks and bidding them all farewell before slipping quickly out the door with a wink.
"If you need me you know where to find me." She'd smiled broadly as she stood in the doorway, "All of you. All you need to do is send a note."
Waving her goodbye, Celeste had expected sadness from Gandriel at his mother's departure but had only found relief on his fine features, his face lighting up in such a way that almost made her understand what her sister saw in him.
Almost.
He'd promptly dumped an entire bottle of wine on Celeste's clothes whilst she was folding her laundry the following night, which had evaporated the feeling instantly.
They'd departed a couple weeks after Marianna, covertly spending their time obtaining the newest information from Isabelle and inquiring about homes for the children. After their errands they'd slipped easily out of the city and begun their trek back towards Portmouth, intel in hand. Isabelle's gleaning had been useful, obtaining leads on more shipments due in a little over a month's time near the center of the continent.
However, finding places for the children . . . it'd been nearly fruitless. Many of the local orphanages and homes lacked the space and time to care for them properly, regardless of the generous donations offered by many of Fallon's wealthy contacts. There were simply too many children to look after and too many who would continue to go without until they found a solution.
The failure had left dread festering inside Celeste, making her eager to see if Fallon had been more successful. She had faith the sultry captain had used her wiles and charm to conjure up at least something, the female's luck never ceasing to amaze her. If they were fortunate, perhaps she had been able to track down some of the childrens' original homes as well.
For Celeste, it didn't matter how far they'd have to go to return them or give them homes, she'd happily sail halfway across the world just to ensure the children landed safely. She only needed Fallon to give her coordinates and a date.
Which was where she, Gandriel and Anelisse made for now, the bulk of the Siren shrouded in shadow as it sat docked in the harbor, the familiar outline of the Loreley looming dimly beside it. The stars twinkled silently above as she stepped onto the dock, the lapping of the water a familiar call. Even after years of grueling work on the water Celeste never grew tired of it, always eager to return.
Striding down the wooden platform, she sensed the presence of two people sitting atop barrels near the Siren, their features doused in darkness.
It was the deep chuckle that gave their identities away instantly.
"I'm glad to see you've all returned safely," Avi chirped, the buckles on his shoulder straps glinting in the dregs of lantern light seeping from the Siren, his elbows propped on his knees. "I assume your trip to Marchedor was successful?"
"Isabelle discovered some interesting things, but our attempts at finding homes were less than." Celeste nodded toward the ship where she heard Fallon's trilling laugh echo, followed by a deeper male chuckle. She blinked. "I was hoping that you all had had more luck."
"We did." The other shadow, Vaerek, spoke, his voice somewhat grouchier and more gravelly than usual as he ran a blade down the length of a stick, peeling the bark from it in a long curl. "Fallon's got the information; I'd suggest going and talking to her."
Intrigue filled Celeste at the tone but she questioned no further when Avi shook his head, his white teeth flashing in amusement.
"She's got company, but I think they're finished for the night." The sound of Vaerek's knife intensified, the steel screeching as it tore down the branch. She felt her sister and Gandriel's curiosity pique beside her, as the selkie blandly added, "You're welcome to go up and see her."
"Of course, thank you."
Stepping past the couple, Celeste smirked beneath her deep hood as she heard Vaerek mutter the word 'prick' under his breath. Whoever Fallon was seeing certainly wasn't a friend of her fathers', though Avi seemed more amused than upset.
"I wonder if this is the male she's touted about," Gandriel whispered conspiratorially, leaning toward her and Anelisse, his voice full of scandal, "she's been vague about the details. I wonder if he looks like a trout."
"Oh piss," her sister tittered back, pulling them all closer. "Fallon? Please, I imagine he looks something akin to a god."
"Or perhaps she just has the respect to not shout her sexual endeavors to the whole world," Celeste quipped, brow lifting, "unlike another couple I know." Guilt and embarrassment immediately saturated the duo's scents as Gandriel coughed and looked away, nearly sending her into a fit of laughter at their lack of self-awareness.
She'd since grown accustomed to their nightly escapades and had purchased a noise cancelling charm that had done wonders to drown out the sounds of their activities, much to her relief.
"We're not that bad," Gandriel grumbled as they strode up the gangplank, the call of gulls and briny scent of the ocean washing over them. "It's not our fault that we enjoy one another."
"I think she's just jealous," Anelisse sang at her, wiggling her brows as Celeste made a retching noise. "Maybe I should share you one of these nights and let her see what all the fun is about."
Celeste gagged at the thought, revolted.
"I'd rather return to a diet of boiled fish than ever lay a hand upon your body." Gandriel made an indignant noise, playfully shoving her as she stepped up onto the ship. She chuckled in return, eyes sweeping the deck for Fallon, hoping to rope her friend in to the volley of impending insults. Her gaze snagged on the scantily clad captain and her nightly companion near the bow of the ship, unaware of their presence.
Even in the dim lantern light the tall male's hair shone with the color of dark fire, the skin around his unnatural golden eye crinkling as a smile broke across his face at something Fallon said, his handsome profile tinkering bells in Celeste's foggy memory.
The world around her froze.
Lucien.
A memory blasted open in her mind.
Be nice, the woman had chastised her, slipping her into that lovely plum dress she'd bought in the market a few days prior, the material silken against her skin. It's been a long time since Lucien has visited, she had explained, combing the dark locks back away from her face. You remember him, don't you?
Barely, she'd thought a bit sourly, upset that her evening of running about through the garden had been postponed for a dinner with some male that had made the brown-eyed female upset.
He is family, Celeste. Soft hands tied off the bow. You know, he was here to see you shortly after you were born.
So she'd tried to behave, truly. Bowing and being courteous, attempting to mind her manners. She'd even managed to contain her desperate questions about his strange gold eye, the device whirring as it swiveled about in its socket. The male had even brought her a gift for her birthday from the week before, a delicate hairpin shaped like roses and leaves. His hands were warm as he'd gently passed the box to her, a tentative smile on his face.
The pin was lovely, really, encrusted in jewels and twined with tendrils of gold so that it would sit perfectly in her dark hair, but . . .
"It's so . . ." Pretty, lovely, nice, the words flitted through her mind as she struggled to manifest one that was at the very least true, one that would walk the fine line between courtesy and honesty. "Pink."
She didn't miss the scent of embarrassment that coated him or the suppressed laughter from down the table, the long-suffering sigh that escaped from someone else. She almost felt bad about the heat that raced up his cheeks.
"Thank you very much, Uncle Lucien." She awkwardly pulled the box close, trying and failing to show her delight with something that she'd likely try to melt and rearrange herself. Why couldn't he have just brought her one of those interesting eyes? She would have had hours of fun with that.
"You're very welcome." He nodded at her before delicately pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, his crimson hair sliding over his shoulder as he rose.
Panic surged in Celeste's chest, the unexpected memory slamming to a close. She knew exactly who he was.
"Shit."
The same word echoed from Gandriel beside her, his golden skin suddenly ashen as he stumbled back, an icy gust of wind spiraling from him to race toward Fallon and Lucien, lifting the captain's hat from her head and sending it tumbling off into the ocean. Celeste barely registered the shriek of horror from the female or the complete lack of attention from the male as they both turned to chase after the article.
A short but critical distraction.
Gandriel's uneven breathing faded as his bulk shifted into the body of that damned orange tabby beside her, flattening his ears and hissing before bounding off into the captain's quarters behind him, leaving the door swinging.
Away, she had to get away-
She reached out a desperate hand for Anelisse, begging her, "Please."
"Go!" Without hesitation, her sister shuffled her toward the door and shoved her inside before slamming it shut, going to do who knew what. Anything to keep him away from her, she hoped. She only prayed he wouldn't hurt her sister.
Why was Fallon in league with him? Why was he here of all places? Did he know she was here?
Lucien. Lucien. Lucien.
The name raced through her mind.
Uncle Lucien.
Her thoughts racing, she fumbled her way into Fallon's quarters, the walls around her feeling as though they were closing in. She was cornered in here, trapped with no way out—she found she couldn't breathe, as though no oxygen would enter her lungs.
Disgustingly, his aroused scent saturated the room, filling every corner of it, sending sparks of electricity coursing through her mind as it tried to place the faces of those she couldn't remember. Leaning against the wall she cursed filthily, trying and failing to corral the twisted swirling memories.
Of course Fallon was fucking Lucien of all people.
She wished the floor would swallow her whole.
Gandriel was suddenly in front of her, gentle hands on her face.
"Breathe," he ordered her, worry in those tawny eyes. Dimly, Celeste noted the male had somehow managed to find his way back to his usual form. She forced a gasping breath down, desperately clawing for control. She'd worn a hood, he hadn't seen her, hadn't scented her—
She could still get away.
Gandriel could winnow them, anywhere, as long as it wasn't here. If he could control his powers for more than ten damn minutes-
She forced a breath down, then another, slowly prying her hand free from the blade strapped at her waist, willing air into her revolting body as the pain in her mind faded to a dull ache. Focusing her eyes on Gandriel, she watched as his features twisted somewhere between fear and protectiveness as he watched the door beside them, as though he'd rush it before anyone entered.
Winnow, she needed him to winnow them. But why was he panicking?
"How-" she managed to pant, gripping the sleeve of his jacket, trying to focus her mind on the present, on the way that she was going to get out of this mess, "how do you know Lucien?"
He cut a sharp gaze to her, something between confusion and realization dancing in his eyes. "How do you know Lucien?"
A heavy silence strung taut between them.
Trying to calm her frazzled nerves, Anelisse dusted her dress as she slowly approached the pair, cool anger filling her at whoever the male was. To have elicited such a reaction from both her sister and Gandriel-
Calm, she reminded herself, you are the embodiment of calm and kindness. Explanations could come later.
She didn't know how, but she'd keep him away from that cabin with whatever it took. She only hoped that Fallon would somehow help in that, would prove useful enough until she could get him off the ship and away.
"Absolutely useless!" Fallon, clothed in only a long white shirt, griped at the beautiful red headed male beside her. The captain handed him the glass of wine she'd been holding before executing a surprisingly elegant dive off the side of the ship, no doubt to track down her beloved hat.
"Fallon!" His voice was a low, rich tenor and full of exasperation, the muscles of his bare back rolling as he gripped the rail to shout after her, no doubt missing the same shirt the female was wearing. "It's just a hat!"
"How dare you talk about Priscilla like that!" Fallon shouted from the water below, splashing as she paddled toward the feather bobbing faintly on the waves.
"Such nonsense," the male muttered beneath his breath, shaking his long locks before he turned to face Anelisse. It took him a moment before he glanced down as though he suddenly remembered his state of half-nakedness. He sighed.
"Forgive my state of undress. I—" he shot a dry look over a shoulder at the still splashing and cursing Fallon, "-we were not expecting company at this hour." In the dim light Anelisse caught sight of his eyes, one an unusual russet color and the other a metallic golden orb breaking the slash of an old scar, an oddly lovely combination.
Had the situation been different she might have stared at their beauty, to try and remember the shape and coloring so that she could paint them later.
Instead, she painted an easy smile on her face before snickering quietly. A knowing, teasing sound.
"No worries, we were informed the captain was . . . receiving visitors, though we were also told you were, ah, finished." She gave a pointed look at his nakedness, trying to make him feel uncomfortable, to gain the high ground on the immortal before her. "Though that doesn't seem to be the case. No matter, I'm not one to judge." She thrust out a hand. "My name is Anelisse."
The male gave her a scrutinizing look before tentatively taking her hand in his own and shaking it politely. "Lucien. A pleasure."
"The pleasure is mine," she cooed, dipping into a polite curtsey, hearing Fallon curse as she pulled herself up onto the dock and began striding for the gangplank below them, "I've heard a lot about you."
She'd heard absolutely nothing.
"Of course you have." Something akin to immortal exhaustion flashed across his features before he shooed it away, donning a mask that told Anelisse that Lucien had long since learned to hide his emotions, no doubt from navigating around treacherous, conniving immortals from a young age if she guessed correctly. "I don't believe I've ever heard your name before, nor seen you." A cock of that beautiful head, the golden orb whirring, "You're a friend of Fallon's, I assume?"
So the Siren's captain had kept true to her promise to Celeste to keep her identity a secret, then. Apparently, she'd kept all of their identities a secret.
Anelisse tried to not let her knees wobble in relief. A clatter sounded from the aft end of the ship as Fallon stormed up the gangplank, muttering about skinning cats under her breath.
"Yes, though not in the same . . . manner." She gave Lucien a once-over, leering at the beautiful body in the most shameless way, anything to make him uncomfortable, to feel objectified. "Though I can see why she keeps you around." She winked.
His face fell into a deadpan, some emotion flickering to life in the russet eye before he quickly shoved it away. She'd just hit a sore spot - he thought Fallon was just using him as a plaything. Digging in her heels, she prepared to keep peppering the little piece of vulnerability when a soaked Fallon marched up beside her, vigorously shaking her hat, the usually fluffy plume dripping sadly onto the deck.
"I swear, I'm going to skin Gandriel, that furry orange little prick," she grumbled, carefully wringing the water from the velvet, the rest of her assets on full display beneath the now transparent white shirt. Anelisse felt Lucien straighten beside her, could practically see the arousal from the corner of her eye.
She had never fancied women but one look at Fallon and she frankly didn't blame him. Good, the more distracted he was the easier he would be to shoo away.
"Furry little . . . prick?" There was confusion in Lucien's voice, and Anelisse could practically see his mind trying to piece together the tidbits of information being sprinkled around him. His golden eye flicked toward the cabin where Celeste and Gandriel had barricaded themselves, no doubt contemplating their escape.
Clever, he was far too clever for her liking. He reminded Anelisse of a conniving fox, one that had made an art of escaping hunters.
She would happily turn him into a scarf.
"A . . . nickname if you will, for one of our friends. He owns a lovely little tabby who accompanies him everywhere," she lied smoothly, praying that Fallon would catch the hint, "He's currently awaiting the company of our esteemed captain. I do assume you know how to escort yourself home for the evening?"
Disregarded entirely, as though he were a pet to come and go at his owner's beck and call. Lucien looked mildly off put and surprised, as though being brushed off by some mortal woman wasn't something he was accustomed to.
Anelisse nearly told him he should grow used to it.
She knew she'd played the right cards when a knowing smile creeped across Fallon's features, hazel eyes twinkling inquisitively. I'll play along, they seemed to say, but you're going to tell me everything. The fiery female cackled before slipping an arm around Anelisse's shoulders and pulling her close, her wet curls soaking into the shoulders of her dress.
"Well, you heard the lady," Fallon jabbed a finger over a shoulder, "you've been dismissed for the night. Go get the papers together that we were discussing, we set sail in the morning," she paused, ogling him in a way that Anelisse considered an art. "Unless, of course, you have an objection?"
"Fallon," he hissed, looking all the world like his might give her a piece of his mind before reconsidering as heat rushing up those tanned cheeks, "a bit of decency perhaps? At least a proper farewell?"
"Oh, forgive me." She strode towards him and ran a hand down the length of his torso and across his trousers where he perked up beneath her hand with a muffled groan. "Is that better?"
"By the Mother," he swatted at her hand, grumbling his annoyance before striding around her and straight towards the cabin behind them, his hand landing on the handle. "At least allow me to retrieve my shoes before you send me away."
Anelisse nearly screamed at him to stop.
Fallon leisurely stepped forward.
"Now, now, Lucien," she purred, striding quickly towards him and intercepting him before he could pull the door open, "I can't have you scaring away my informants and you've already seen the face of one of them, which you weren't supposed to." She glanced at Anelisse and gave a sultry wink, "Though you should consider it a treat considering how beautiful our Anelisse is."
Said blonde gave another curtsey, even has her heart thundered in her chest at his proximity to the cabin.
"Wait here and I'll toss them out." Fallon eased the male's hand off the knob and shoved him aside with a hip. "Just a moment."
Fallon disappeared inside the cabin for a few tense moments before two fine leather boots flew out of the doorway onto the deck with a thud. "See you tomorrow Lucien," she purred as she reappeared and blocked the door, obscuring the view inside, "make sure you get enough rest so you have stamina for the journey."
Her words were implicative enough. Lucien's face soured like wine as he scooped up his boots and eased into them with trained grace. "And my shirt?"
The captain gave him a wicked grin before peeling the soaked article off and tossing it to him with squelch. The male rolled his eyes and didn't even bother tugging it on before he turned, gave Anelisse a polite bow, and made for the gangplank.
He stopped suddenly.
Anelisse felt her heart jump into her chest as his eyes widened and he sniffed, brow furrowing as though some memory had been jogged in his mind.
"Enjoying the remaining scent of our joining?" Fallon draped herself across the doorway of the cabin, brimming with sexuality.
He stopped his sniffing immediately before shaking his head, as though dislodging whatever thoughts had taken him before he muttered a terse "goodnight" and disappeared down the gangplank into the shadows of the night.
"All right, the jig's up." Fallon pushed the door open and strode naked into the room, Anelisse hot on her heels. Celeste peeled away slightly from the wall she'd been pushed against moments before with Gandriel, the male still pale from the tense discussion they'd just had. "What the hell are you two doing?"
"Trying to not get caught," Gandriel grumbled as he peeked around the naked Fallon out to the open deck, ensuring that Lucien had indeed departed, "A little warning next time would be most appreciated." He pointed a finger at an object half-obscured in the rumpled sheets on the floor. "Also, what hell did you do to that grapefruit?"
Celeste nearly rolled her eyes, of course that was his concern. He'd even, confusingly, brought it up during their little heart to heart.
Fallon smiled like a gluttoned cat.
"I'll tell you when you're older, pretty boy." Celeste didn't even bother pointing out that he was older than her, her mind occupied with other more pressing matters. "And my ship, my rules," Fallon crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head as she leaned against the wall seemingly oblivious to her state of undress, watching them both with vague amusement, "so start talking."
"How do you know him?" Celeste's voice came out colder than expected as she lowered herself onto the bed, Anelisse and Gandriel joining her on either side, Lucien's lingering scent sending a throbbing through her skull. She'd nearly thrown her knife when she'd heard him grab the door handle.
Better him dead than them knowing.
"He runs things from Prythian's side - I've known him for years. One of Lord Tamlin's diplomats. Why?"
"Let's just say that we're not friends," Gandriel muttered, "and that I would much prefer to remain entirely anonymous to him. Better yet, let's just fire him and get someone new."
Confusion flickered across the captain's face.
"It's . . . complicated," Celeste chimed in, trying to weave a cohesive but vague enough picture for the woman before her. She grimaced as her head gave another throb, struggling to get the fragments of memory under control. "I don't know him, really. Maybe he wouldn't even know me. But he knows my . . . father." The candlelight swam before her as Anelisse squeezed her hand gently, drawing her once again back to reality. "Please, he can under no circumstances know about either of us."
"Is that enough of an explanation?" Gandriel inquired tersely, shoulders taut.
Fallon stopped for a moment, considering, fingers tapping against her arm. Celeste hoped she wouldn't have to force an oath, straining the bond she made with the female to protect herself and Gandriel.
"Good enough for me," Fallon finally spoke, glancing between them.
The male visibly relaxed, gaping slightly at the captain. "Really?"
She shrugged. "We all have our secrets."
Gandriel grimaced, muttering, "Not anymore," as she uncrossed her arms, her assets once again on full display. Fallon simply placed her hands on her hips and sent him a wink.
"I'm not one to press issues. If you don't want contact with Lucien I can arrange it, especially seeing as you both look like you've seen a phantom hellbent on taking your souls. My lips are sealed."
"You have absolutely no idea," the male grumbled, face still ashen.
"Apparently not."
"Just . . ." Celeste's voice trailed off as she worked her fingers in her leggings, trying and failing to halt the shaking. "Trust us on this. Please."
"I do," Fallon moved her hair from one shoulder over to the other, "and I will speak no more of the matter."
Celeste slumped on the bed even as her heart still thundered in her chest. "Thank you."
"I must warn you though, he'll be back in the morning." The thought made Celeste's stomach roll. She watched as the redhead crossed to her wardrobe and pulled a silken robe out before slipping into it and tying it loosely about her waist. "We've found homes for nearly half the children."
"Really?" Celeste looked up. "How?"
Fallon shrugged. "Apparently an old, wealthy friend of Lucien's has some territory in the North that's just brimming with families willing to help. It's several weeks' journey by ship, especially without weather boy with us," a nod at Gandriel, "so we'll be gone for a while. I was hoping you two could hold things down on this end."
"Absolutely." Celeste ran her hands through her dark locks, calculating and planning just how to keep her and Gandriel's identities under wraps. "Anything you need. Just let us know."
"Good," Fallon nodded to a stack of papers on her desk, "we'll start there. I need to corral my fathers before we start delegating duties. I'll be back in a moment." She looked at Anelisse and gestured for her to follow. "I might need your help getting Vaerek back on the ship."
Anelisse glanced between Celeste and Fallon, torn, as Celeste motioned for her to go. The blonde squeezed her hand once more, a promise, before rising and following after the captain, who suddenly paused in the doorway, an odd look on her face as she turned back to the room.
"What Gandriel said when we first met . . . you're not actually siblings, are you?"
Celeste and Gandriel exchanged a glance, the tension in the room evaporating as the male burst out laughing and Celeste groaned. "No," she rolled her eyes, "I assure you we are not."
Fallon nodded to herself, turning back to the door and stepping out. "I just wanted to check."
The two sat in silence for a time, the information they'd just exchanged running through Celeste's mind again and again, the likelihood of it so disbelievingly small. How had she never noticed? She needed to protect both him and herself now more than ever.
"So . . ." Gandriel broke the silence as color slowly began to creep up his cheeks, "Heir of Night, huh?"
She almost hit him but instead replied just as wryly, "Heir of Spring, huh?"
"Never say another word about it?"
"Nope."
The human girl, Anelisse, had startled Lucien when she stepped up behind him with quiet intrigue, inquisitive silver eyes watching him in the way a cat might size up a mouse. It hadn't been her approach that had startled him though, no, he'd heard her and her companions' footsteps minutes before as they'd stepped onto the boat, but instead her unwavering gaze in the alarmingly beautiful face, eyes sharper than some of the oldest fae he knew.
The silver band around her index finger on her left hand had also left him surprised: a single silver knot intertwined with two small circles - a Child of the Blessed. A rare sight in a time when the cult-like factions' numbers were rapidly dwindling. She likely had to be one of the few remaining members.
It had been nearly a decade since he'd last seen one.
An interesting choice in spies on Fallon's part, though incredibly effective if she were part of the Loreley's secretive crew. Their work and presence had almost become a legend of sorts, masked marauders who had accomplished more in a few months' time than years of effort had.
He had to admit he was the tiniest bit curious.
And had it not been for the gust of wind that had stolen Fallon's monstrous hat he would have introduced himself to the others, even if his state of undress had been less than appropriate.
The petite girl had clearly thought as much, looking him over like a fine hound for breeding, her eyes lingering a bit too long in the more sensitive areas. Though when it came to Fallon, was he honestly much more? She clearly hadn't conveyed a different message to her fellow vigilantes.
Embarrassment swept through him.
He hadn't exactly made a successful attempt at halting such assumptions either, not that trying to do so with Fallon had ever been useful. So he'd settled instead for awkwardly introducing himself, watching the petite human girl before him.
Though she was trying to hide it he could sense her nervousness and anger, whether from impatience or at the thought of his seeing her face he wasn't sure. From the way her eyes roamed it certainly hadn't stemmed from his lack of clothing. Her scent was also peculiar, vanilla and lavender with a tinge of . . . something familiar. Something he couldn't quite place.
He gave a subtle, tentative sniff, catching hints of rain-soaked roses and jasmine, a combination that somehow seemed wrong in his mind. His curiosity had piqued around the time Fallon had stormed towards him, her precious Priscilla clutched in her arms as she shot him a pointed look, ever protective of the silly article. His thoughts had come to a standstill.
Whatever power that woman wielded had frozen him as he tried and failed to not look at her beneath his now soaked shirt, his desire for her rising once more. That same desire that had kept him sane after catching a whiff of Azriel's scent on the parchment they'd received that morning.
He'd focused wholly on her, another survival tactic he'd acquired in a century of learning to endure.
Even if the woman was a temptress that made him simultaneously want to kiss her and strangle her.
After her little 'show' of affection and subsequent dismissal, he was certainly feeling more the latter. He wasn't even surprised when she'd intercepted him retrieving his boots, wagging those arched brows of hers. He'd nearly forgotten the recognition in the scent until he'd caught it again by the door, more concentrated than before and ringing vague alarms in his mind.
There were two of them.
Where had he smelled them before?
It was like a memory there at the border, peeking up over the edge, flickering into clarity, the hints of flowers, of home, and the subtle scent of the sea and stars-
The pieces had nearly settled into place when Fallon's vicelike grip had pulled him once more, sending all of his blood rushing from one head to the other and leaving him keen on departing. Whatever the scent had been it certainly wasn't something he would need to concern himself with, even if its lingering still jangled uncomfortably in his thoughts.
The sooner he departed from Fallon the better.
He'd almost reached the end of the dock when a gravelly voice piped up out of the shadow, "Finished for the night, Lucien?"
He tried not to flinch, having forgotten his beloved captain sending her fathers on their merry way earlier in the evening. He opened his mouth to respond when Avi's smooth purr interjected, saving him the awkward reply.
"Yes, they're done for the night." There was a shifting in the darkness, and what sounded suspiciously like a smack. "Goodnight, Lucien. I assume we'll see you at sunrise? We set sail for Night Court at the break of dawn, I'd advise you to arrive on time."
Right, they were to set sail to Velaris's shores in the morning, taking nearly half of the rescued children with them to be placed into homes in the Night Court. Rhysand had insisted, claiming they were more than capable of handling them and that many loving families awaited them, as detailed in the shadowsinger's note.
The thought of the male's scent sent a pulse of possessive electricity through him that had him rushing back to his room at the inn, the memory of the scents he'd caught nearly gone. He doubted that he would sleep, instead likely to spend the night awaiting their departure in the morning so that he could once again lose himself in Fallon's clutches.