Dage stepped to the side. “Where’s Jase?”
“Working out.” Brenna edged toward the door.
“That’s a new one,” the king muttered. He sighed. “The demons have increased the bounty on your head by another five billion—if you’re taken by the winter solstice. Apparently they believe the Pagurus myth.”
Brenna stopped. “You know about the comet?”
“Sure. There may be something to it, maybe not.” He shrugged and focused on Emma. “Why does everyone always forget I’m the king?”
Emma snorted. “You wish.”
Their easy banter made Brenna’s chest hurt. Did she have a chance of finding such closeness with Jase? The image of his kill wall wavered through her mind.
Probably not.
Jase’s shoulders strained as he lifted himself arm-over-arm up the thin rope. It was good to be home in his own gym. Well, if one could call the revamped metal shop a gym. Rough and dirty, the area suited him well.
Weapons lined one wall, and fighting dummies perched in front of them.
Swinging his legs up, he used his ankles to grab the rope, hanging upside down. With a quick twist of his torso, he threw the metal disk across the room and decapitated two of the dummies.
“Now, that’s illegal,” a low voice rumbled from the doorway.
Jase turned his head to find two of his brothers inside his gym. “So turn me in.” He crawled down the rope headfirst until reaching the dirt floor. A quick flip and he faced his brothers. “What?”
Conn and Talen stood shoulder to shoulder in leather jackets—both soldiers, both deadly.
“The Degoller Star has been banned for three centuries. Any particular reason you’re training with forbidden weaponry?” Talen asked calmly, his golden gaze on the headless mannequins. He held another jacket by the collar.
Jase shrugged. “The very reason the Degoller has been banned is why I want to use it.” Beheading killed all immortals, which was why they’d agreed years ago to ban the disk that so easily cut off their heads if thrown correctly. “Are you going to rat me out to Dage?”
Conn snorted. “Talen is the strategic leader of the Realm, and I’m the highest ranked soldier. What makes you think we need Dage to arrest your ass?” The tone remained congenial, but irritation shone through his green eyes.
Interesting. Had two of his older brothers decided to stop tiptoeing around him? “So try it.”
Conn stepped forward, and Talen grabbed his shoulder.
Talen shook his head. “We want to go for a drink and celebrate your mating.”
Jase paused. “Where?”
“Biker bar—a couple of counties over. We could take the new motorcycles.” A dimple flashed in Talen’s cheek. “That is, if you think you can keep up.” He threw the leather jacket at Jase. “Dage, Kane, and Max are all tied up with business. The three of us are the fun ones, anyway.”
Part of him wanted to refuse. Hanging with his brothers, acting like everything was all right, was the second-to-the-last thing he wanted to do. The first thing was hurting them. If he refused, he would. Sure, they’d be pissed. That he could handle, but disappointing everyone all the time churned his gut. He caught the jacket midair. “All right. Let’s see the new bikes.”
The two-hour ride took approximately forty minutes at the speed they traveled. The wind, the air, the speed all rushed through Jase, making him feel alive. He’d forgotten how that felt. Finally arriving at the hole-in-the-wall bar, they stomped inside and commandeered a table in the back. Conn ordered four bottles of silver tequila, which the waitress delivered before pouring shot glasses of the shimmering liquid.
Jase lifted an eyebrow. “I take it we’re getting drunk.”
Talen held up his glass. “You take it right.”
They all followed suit. Conn cleared his throat. “To pretty Brenna Dunne. We’ll kill all the demons before we let them take her.”
Jase took his shot. The liquor burned down his throat to slam into his gut, and a tight knot inside him started to unravel. His brothers would protect Brenna. He slapped his glass down. “Ready for round two?”
“I’m on round three,” Talen said, sputtering.
Several bottles later, the room started to tilt. Jase downed another shot. “We are the fun ones.”
“I know, right?” Conn wove on his seat. “Dage is all serious with the king-shit, and Kane, well . . . he’s Kane.”
Talen nodded in slow motion. “Yeah. Kane is Kane.”
“Aptly put.” Conn leaned forward and knocked his glass on the wooden floor. “Oops. But I gotta say, I like his mate.”
Talen snorted. “Amber’s a pistol. Exactly what Kane needed.”
“Yeah. A vegan.” Conn started laughing. “A vegan.”
Jase snorted. “I mated a witch.”
“Me, too.” Conn laughed harder.
“Mine was human,” Talen said softly, losing his smile.
Jase caught his breath. Talen’s mate had been infected with Virus-27 nearly twenty years ago. “How is Cara?”
Talen shrugged. “The virus is slow-moving, but it’s still moving. It could take decades to finally run its course, whatever that may be. She’s weaker lately and hides it, but not well.”
“She’s a strong woman. She’d have to be . . . to give birth to Garrett.” Jase forced a grin. Garrett Kayrs was everything Jase used to be. Tough, fun, charismatic. At nineteen years old, the kid had the world at his fingertips.
“I know. We just need to cure the damn bug.” Talen exhaled slowly.
“Witches are susceptible to the virus, too,” Conn said, his gaze on his shot glass.
“Yes.” Jase motioned for the waitress to bring another bottle. “Yet very few witches have been infected.”
“For now.” Talen tipped his glass, gaze on the swirling liquid. “Kane thinks the damn virus will go airborne at some point. Maybe.”
“No. Kane will find a cure before that happens.” Jase ignored a tendril of doubt. His brother was a genius, but not all bugs could be killed.
Conn wove to his feet. “I’m headed to the can, and then I want to go home and check on my witch.” He stumbled around several tables toward the restroom.
Talen coughed. “We should be sober in about fifteen minutes.”
Make that an hour. They’d drunk more bottles than Jase could count. His brother’s face blurred. “Maybe we should walk a bit before riding.”
“Good plan.” Talen nodded and shoved away from the table, sending it spiraling.
Jase grabbed the bottle before it could fly. “Hmph.”
“Keep it the fuck down over there,” someone bellowed.
Jase tilted his head toward his brother, as Talen narrowed his gaze. “We didn’t just hear that, did we?” Talen asked.
“Sure did, asshole. Now keep it down before I kick your ass,” the guy yelled.
Jase turned to spot four guys at the bar. Hulking and drunk, they stared. “I think they wanna fight,” Jase murmured.
Talen stood, swaying slightly. “Humans?”
Jase tried to focus. “Shifters. Wolf would be my bet.”
“Even better,” Talen muttered. “Hey, asshole. My five-foot-nuthin’ wife could kick your ass.” He snorted and mock-whispered to Jase, “She probably could, too. I’ve been training her.”
The wolf lunged across two tables and tackled Talen into the wall.
Jase saw red. Fists swinging, he met two of the charging shifters more than halfway. He kicked one guy in the throat, throwing him across the bar. Glass shattered, and tables broke. Two sidesteps and he had the other guy in a headlock. He tightened just enough to cut off the guy’s air.
The final wolf tried to shake him off his friend.
Jase held tight, waiting until the guy dropped unconscious to the floor before facing the remaining wolf. A quick glance toward the corner showed Talen knocking his attacker to the floor, waiting patiently for the guy to stand, and then beating him down again. A moronic smile lit Talen’s face.