Page 64 of Hybrid Heroics

“I fucking knew that was coming.” Briggs glared at me. “Don’t say it.”

I covered my mouth with my hand. “I wasn’t.”

“He will now,” Vaughn acknowledged.

“I’m struggling not to,” I confessed, smirking. “He left the perfect opening.”

“Remind me the next time we see Daphne to ask her if she dropped him on his head as a baby,” Briggs mock-whispered to Palmer.

The mage shook his head. “I think that might be a rude conversation to have with his ma.”

“Why are you guys acting so casual?” Sterling snapped. “Can’t you hear the thundering of footsteps?”

“We hear it,” the wolf assured her.

“You have to hang onto the humor when you find it, Sterling,” York explained. “We’ve been battling for weeks. But these moments? They’re the ones we’ll remember.”

“Find the good in the bad,” Palmer affirmed. “Find the fun in the wicked…”

She glared, unimpressed with us. “And when will you get serious?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” I shrugged. “Probably not, but there’s always a possibility.”

“Are we not going to talk about those things?” Flint asked, pointing at the boys in their true forms.

I didn’t blame him for being unsure. They were freaky. Helios had three sets of eyes that were especially unnerving. But they were swe—nice-ish. They had their moments, and I had developed a soft spot for them.

“Sloane’s hellhounds,” Stone corrected. “She’s trained them to protect her in moments like this, so they’ll stay inside.”

I flashed an image of Talia and Latharian to the boys. “Those two aren’t enemies. Don’t eat them.”

“No one touches her,” the demon instructed quietly, meeting all the eyes.

They really were fucking creepy when they tipped their enormous heads in unison. I preferred them in a less bloodthirsty form, though today, this was what we needed.

Sterling walked to the front door, letting the boys into the house as she shouted to her parents, “They’re hellhounds. Don’t touch them or York’s mate.”

When she was back in our group, she nodded her head at York. With her palm open and up, a branch began sprouting from her skin. She tugged on the end, pulling a whole fucking staff out of her hand.

It gave me chills.

“Nice choice,” York complemented.

“What is it?” Stone inquired.

She twirled the staff. “Australian Buloke.”

“I don’t know what that is,” the demon mumbled.

“It’s my tree,” she replied.

Stone shrugged, his way of saying he didn’t care or still didn’t understand what she meant.

“I thought you said no weapons?” I asked.

Sterling smirked at me. “I thought you said you’ve never knocked an orc unconscious.”

“I’ve never seen an orc,” I popped back. “It’s kind of hard to fight one when you haven’t been face-to-face with one.”