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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Born of Legend (102 page)

BOOK: Born of Legend
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“Gotcha.” Jullien pinned it to his arm.

But it was Taryn who was the most infatuated with his patch. He ran over to Ture and his infant son. “Look, Uncle Ture! Will you let Terek be on my crew when he's big?”

“I don't know, Terry. I'd rather he stay in my kitchen with me and be a chef. But if it's what he wants … sure.”

Of course, for now, all Terek could do was teethe on the patch.

Kiara met Jullien's gaze. “Thank you for calming them down, and giving them something else to focus on.”

“No problem.”

She jerked her chin toward his link. “May I see your daughters?”

Jullien hesitated. He wasn't sure why, other than Kiara had never been particularly interested in anything other than putting as much space as she could between them—as quickly as possible. And this was as personal to him as showing someone the most naked part of his body or soul. Mainly because his family was the part of him that left him vulnerable and weak. They were the key to his utter destruction.

But they were also his greatest strength and the only thing in life he took pride in. In a lifetime marked with wrong decisions and mistakes, they were the only thing he'd ever done right.

So he glanced at the photo and smiled at their beautiful faces before he held it out to her. It was a picture of them with Ushara and Vasili from a few weeks ago.

Kiara looked down and gasped as if she'd half expected him to have been lying about having a family. “Your wife's currently pregnant?”

He nodded.

“And the boy in the photograph?”

“Our son, Vasili.”

“They're beautiful, Jullien.”

“Thank you.” He slid the link into his pocket, then stood. “We have some communications up. The good news is … we're alive.”

“But your palace is gravel.”

He grimaced at his best friend. “Thank you, Thrāix. Way to spread sunshine over the landscape.”

Completely unabashed, Thrāix shrugged. “I did not want to be here. Let's not lose sight of that one fact. I was drafted into this against my common sense and better judgment.”

Jullien cleared his throat. “Everyone in this room has officially been declared dead.”

They collectively gasped.

Jullien quickly tried to reassure all of them. “That's actually good news. Because you're
not
dead.”

“Yet.”

“Thrāix!” Jullien snapped. “Act like a Tris. They're not going to die.”

“Unless I shoot them.”

“You, go stand in a corner until I finish.” He gave him a droll stare, unsure what had gotten into him. While Thrāix was never the most optimistic to have around, he wasn't normally quite this cantankerous. “Anyway … we need to contact Nyk and the Alliance, and let them know our status before Nyk and The Sentella do something profoundly stupid to retaliate in their grief. And yes, Desideria, that was directed primarily at your husband.”

Kasen cleared her throat. “Hey! I take exception with that. Caillen is also
my
brother.”

“And mine,” Shahara added.

“I wouldn't claim that moron,” Davel said under his breath.

Jullien agreed, but didn't comment on that. Instead, he spoke to his Tavali group so that they would understand the dynamics and importance of the people in the room with them. “Desideria's brother is also
our
family member and friend, Psycho Bunny. And we don't need Chayden on a suicide run. We have enough trouble with him when his head's on straight. Ture's husband and the father of his baby is Maris Xans-Sulle, the Phrixian prince.”

Dimitri let out a low whistle. “Well, that explains why The League made this attack. What the hell were all you idiots thinking by being together in one place?”

“That we were in a palace with an army,” Darling said dryly.

“And how did that work for you, punkin'?” Thrāix answered in an equally sarcastic tone. “Ever want to be schooled on the history of
that
stupidity, talk to my boy, Dr. Dagger, here.” He jerked his chin to Jullien. “You should read his dissertations on the fall of the Trisani Empire and the rise and fall of your own ancestor Justicale Cruel. While y'all might not think much of what you raised, Jules has one of the keenest political minds ever born.”

“Anyway,” Jullien said again, trying to keep them on the topic at hand. “We have a narrow window to get a message out before it will be detected by Eriadne or The League. Thrāix? I need you to toss your shirt to me, real fast, so I can make a video to send to Shara, and she won't see me bloody and panic. I don't want to throw her into labor. We'll let them know we're alive, and then we'll work on getting out of here.”

Thrāix pulled his shirt off.

Because he'd been married to Ushara for so long and she had never really reacted to his body, and her mother and Trajen had been treating his wounds for the last few years, Jullien had forgotten just how badly scarred he was.

Until he exposed his torso.

“Holy mother of the gods.” His mother covered her mouth with her hand.

Tylie retched while his father stared at him in absolute horror.

Sighing from the hurt and shame, Jullien exchanged shirts with Thrāix.

His mother approached him with her eyes mirroring her sickened horror, but Jullien didn't want to see it. He stepped away from her to tuck his shirt in.

“What caused all that?”

He glanced at her. “You're my mother. Of all beings,
you
should know.”

“I didn't mark you Outcast.”

“Sure you did, Matarra,” he said in a flat, emotionless tone. “The day you allowed your priests to refuse my exordiom, and then when you removed me from the royal family and had my name stricken from the Anatole lineage, and a kill warrant issued for my life. Is that not the very definition of Outcast?”

With those words spoken, he put his helmet on and handed his link to Thrāix to record.

Thrāix gave him an arch stare. “Helmet? Really?”

“Bite it and hit record.” Jullien patted his pockets. “No, wait!” Then he remembered Thrāix wasn't really Tavali and didn't have patches on his gear, so he was fine. Ushara wouldn't realize he had on someone else's clothes. “Never mind. We're good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Let's do this.”

But the minute he started to speak, he realized that Thrāix had been right. The helmet was a stupid idea. Not that he was ever going to admit that to the Tris.

He'd been thinking to keep his identity a secret from Nyk. But that wasn't going to work. His brother would have to know who Jullien was in order to cooperate with Shara and Trajen. Otherwise, he'd go off half-cocked and get himself killed.

Shit.

Fine. Whatever. He pulled the skull-decorated blast helmet from his head to expose his thick black hair and whiskered face.
Gods, I hope I don't have any blood on my skin.
Shara would die if she thought he'd been hurt in any way.

He should have checked. But it was too late.

Clearing his throat, he made sure to keep his eyes green so that no one in the Alliance would learn his secret. Or worse, his enemies might discover it and use it against them.

“Greetings, brother. I know I'm the last creature you want to see right now, but I had to let you know that everyone's safe, and that I'm sorry I couldn't forewarn you about The League attack on the palace. By the time I found out what Nyran and Eriadne had planned, there wasn't enough time to call you or Matarra, and I wasn't sure either of you'd even believe me. I didn't know who else to trust. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I came myself to secure them.”

Jullien took his link from Thrāix and panned it around to show his brother and the rest of The Sentella that their families were fine and unscathed, and in no danger whatsoever. Hopefully, that would be enough for them to not go after The Tavali or The League, or do anything else radically stupid.

Kind of asking a lot, but they had to trust in a miracle for this.

First, Jullien went to their parents, who stood together beside Tylie and her partner, Kelsei.

His mother smiled at the camera. “
Mi tana,
breathe easy. Jullien literally pulled us out minutes before everything went up in flames. We owe him our lives. I love you. Have no fear for us.”

Aros inclined his head. “She's right. We're all fine.” Their father stepped back to show Nyk's kids, who were complaining about the toys that had been left behind, and Thia, who grumbled about a broken nail and not having a hairbrush. She was extremely distraught he dared film her in such a state.

Jullien smiled at something Ushara's nieces would have done as well. He could just imagine Nadya's reaction over it.

Exhausted from it all, Shahara and Zarya were now both napping on the floor, with their children nestled beside them while Ture changed Terek's nappy as the baby gnawed on his fist.

Looking up, Ture smiled and waved. “I'm all right, Mare-bear. T, too. We just want you to be safe.” He held the freshly dressed Terek up to wave. “We love you.”

Darling paused in the middle of whatever he was working on. “Yeah, Nyk, I don't trust your brother, either. He's a bloody, traitorous bastard. We know it. But … he has given us one hell of a tactical advantage. The League thinks we're dead and that you're rattled and reactionary. So long as they think we're dead, they're not coming after us, and you can focus on kicking their asses with a clear head and single-minded objective. Use this to the best advantage possible, and don't let either of my brothers do
any
thing stupid while I'm gone. I know I'm asking a lot, but I'd like to still have an empire when I get out of here.” He cut his gaze back to Jullien. “And if
your
brother gets frisky, don't worry. I will end him. Shahara will help. She already took two shots at him.”

Even more agitated at them, Jullien handed his link back to Thrāix so that he could hold it while he addressed his brother. “Anyway, Nykyrian, I know you have absolutely no reason to trust me. And I know you're fighting with one hand tied behind your back so long as you're worried about whether or not I'm going to betray you when you least expect it. So as an act of good faith, to let you know that I understand that I hold in my hands everything in this universe you treasure, I've placed in your hands my very heart and soul. The very means by which to destroy me. And with you being a former League assassin, I know you won't hesitate to do so if I fuck this up.… I have your wife and family in my custody. So I have sent to you
my
wife, daughters, and sons. Please protect them.… I can't live without them, brother. They are all I have in this world. All that means anything to me. You are the only one I would ever trust them with.”

Jullien paused as fear finally overtook him and he realized how much he had on the line.

Everything.

Tears choked him. “Shara, I love you,
munatara a la frah.
I'll be home as soon as I can. Don't you dare have Vidarri without me. And don't let Vasili fight without my brother winging him. I swear I'll loosen the noose on him soon, but he's not as skilled a fighter as he thinks he is, and I don't want to bury our son. He's just not ready to fight in this war. Kiss the girls for me, and tell Mira to be brave for her paka.” He nodded at Thrāix, who turned the link off and handed it to him.

Drawing a ragged breath, Jullien quickly sent the recording to Ushara with a note letting her know he was safe and that he would not break her heart. She was going to be stuck with him for the rest of her life.

Yeah, he was just that cruel.

He swallowed against the tears that gathered in his throat to choke him.

Thrāix clapped him gently on the back. “Just breathe, little brother. You've been in worse predicaments. We both have.”

He snorted. “Not helping.” With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus on their immediate needs. Something hard to do, since Zarina kept fussing and crying.

Kiara couldn't seem to quiet her. And the gods forbid his mother should step in to aid with her granddaughter.

After a few minutes of them attempting a discussion over it and failing due to the distraction, Jullien went to Kiara.

“I'm sorry. I fed her, but she gets horrible colic. It's just her age, I'm told.”

“It's not her age. Androkyn are a bit different from humans.” He held his hands out for the baby. “May I?”

Nodding, she handed him her daughter.

Jullien tsked at his niece and spoke to her in his baby voice that always made Mira laugh whenever he used it. “What you doing,
bytazifm?
You trying to make Matarra lose her sanity?

Kiara frowned at him.
“Bytazifm?”

“Andarion word for
tender bit
or
morsel
.” Jullien placed her so that she rested against his forearm. To keep her from squirming out and falling, he held her to his chest while he gently massaged her left side with two fingers until she finally belched and settled down to chew on his fingers. She instantly stopped crying.

Gaping, Kiara stared at him as if he'd just worked a miracle. “What did you do?”

“Our stomachs aren't quite in the same place as a human's. So when you attempt to burp an Andarion baby as you would a human, it doesn't work as well. We do better on our bellies.”

“Hey, Dagger!”

Kiara reached for her daughter, but he was already across the room with Zarina. Sitting back, she tilted her head as she watched Jullien for a few minutes.

Desideria scooted next to her. “I know there's some kind of bad history with Jullien and Nykyrian, but he doesn't seem so horrible to me.”

Kiara shook her head. “Yeah … I was never around him all that much. He creeped me out when I was younger.”

BOOK: Born of Legend
13.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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