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“We should have put her someplace safe and gone after him. We can kill him,” I told Caspian firmly, my voice a growl. “We brought our young, very fragile mate out into unknown dangers unlike most Navy-Seals would ever face twice in the last two days.”
“Something to tell the grandkids,” Caspian assured with a nod.
I rolled my eyes.
Caspian gave a shrug of his shoulders. “We’re not certain that Seraphus can be killed. You grew up in a different territory, Murtagh, but I grew up far closer to the skirts of the djinn kingdom. I’m going to assure you that many have tried. None have succeeded.” He leaned forward and added, “I don’t like putting her into danger either, Murtagh. I hate it, in my bones. I do. But this is a lesser evil than it would be to face Seraphus directly.”
I stared into my glass for a while, trying to think. “I thought getting the diamonds would be easier than this,” I admitted. “I thought the biggest danger would be Seraphus’ minions sneaking up on us. I didn’t even consider dangers during the search.”
“Mm. I know,” he droned thoughtfully, putting one leg over the other. “I have no idea why you thought that. Honestly, it could have been worse.”
“How so?” I demanded. What had happened was as bad as it could possibly be.
“I don’t know, finding the diamonds stuck in a tub of toxic waste? That would about do it for us,” he pointed between us. “Let alone her. And yeah, she acts young and impulsive. Do you remember us when we were about that age? I do. We were idiots. She’s Albert Einstein compared to where we were. At least she’s not also hot-headed like we were.” He pressed his lips together. “Or are.”
I stabbed my fingers through my hair. “Why can’t things have been easy?”
Caspian shifted in his seat, starting to adjust the rings on his fingers. “We’ve done easy, Murtagh. We’ve done easy for a millennium. Easy does not equate to happiness, does it?”
I growled low in my throat, but mostly I just hated that he was right. Sure, there had been an adjustment period when we’d crossed into the realm and not been able to go home. To call it ‘culture shock’ would be putting it lightly.
But after that, it was easy. I had even gotten lazy about it by avoiding technology because it was ‘too much work to learn’.
Now, fate decided that it had had enough of that. It gave me a Gen Z mate, then a way to get out of the realm (only when I wasn’t dying to be back at home), and a mortal enemy who made me jumpy. Once the world decided to shake itself up for me, it really got itself in a damn hurry.
“Now what do we do?” Caspian asked pointedly, taking mercy on me and changing the subject.
“Go to the witch…” I sighed.
“The one that has Seraphus watching her house,” Caspian added, nodding with sarcastic approval.
“Then have her perform the ritual ceremony…”
“Before we die, hopefully.”
“And then go home.”
Caspian blinked at me and then looked towards the bedroom at the back of the plane. “Does she know that’s the plan? What about her brother?”
I groaned. I had so much shit to worry about, it was hard to remember that she actually cared about her family here. “Shit. The brother…”
“And then what, anyway?” Caspian asked, straightening.
I looked at him, confused, shaking my head. “And then what… What?”
“I mean, what are we going to do with her back in Daconia? I think we forgot to sit and talk about it.” He pointed to the room at the back of the plane as he poured himself a drink. “She’s a djinn-human hybrid. Mostly djinn. Would our people approve?”
I blinked. “It’s been a thousand years. How could we know for sure?” I asked him, shaking my head. “Why are you bringing this up now?”
“It’s better than bringing it up when we get there. I care about her, Murtagh. I want us—you and I at least—to be realistic about this. It might not be a cure-all, bringing her back to Daconia.”
“And your alternative?” I asked him, feeling annoyed at him pointing this out to me.
He shook his head. “All the options are awful. The more I stop and consider them, the sicker to my stomach I get. Bring her to Daconia, she’s ostracized, and so will our child be. Stay here—she might be dead in a week. So might we.”
“Daconia looks good painted in that picture,” I reminded him.
He sighed and massaged his forehead. “I miss Daconia, but every time I think of a future, it’s a future here. I mean, I know, I know, it’s impossible. But for years, I’ve been dreaming about raising my children in this realm. Strollers, preschool plays, Christmas. Football Games. That sort of thing.”
