Born of Legend (28 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

BOOK: Born of Legend
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“And the ones who beat the hell out of me?”

“And them. They go without saying.”

“Great.” Sighing, he put his glasses back on. “Thinking right now when my brother gave me the option of answering his question or having my brains blown out, I chose poorly.”

“Stop whining.” She pulled him to his feet.

Jullien followed her to the door and braced himself for the
warm
reception he knew they were about to receive. Her parents, who were talking to Vas, fell silent as soon as they saw him.

Her father's eyes bulged as his cheeks darkened with anger. “What's
he
doing here, dressed like
that
?”

Ushara pulled Jullien out the door and locked it. “He's going with us to temple.”

Petran turned toward her mother. “Katira? Have words with your daughter. Now!”

“Shara—”

With her head held high, Ushara pulled Jullien by the arm and kept going. “I've no wish to be late, Matarra.”

Jullien looked back at her parents with an apologetic grimace.

Petran glared at her mother. “I blame your side of the family for this.”

Rolling her eyes, she said nothing as she followed after them.

Ushara rushed to catch up to her sisters who were walking together as a group with their husbands and children. Dressed identically to Ushara, Oxana screamed the instant she saw them together and drew her sister into a hug.

Then she hugged Jullien and kissed his cheek. “Love the face! Altaan looks good on you.” She took his hand and led him to the male who was carrying a small toddler girl dressed in a more modest version of her outfit. “Sparn … this is Dagger. He's the one who repaired my ship for us.”

Sparn paused and shifted his daughter in his arms to shake Jullien's hand. “All blessings to you.” He glanced around to the other three girls who were running between them. “As you can see, your help was deeply appreciated. Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure.”

Oxana brushed her hand through the hair of the infant girl in Sparn's arms. “This is our youngest, Olya.” She pointed to the eldest. “Nadya, named for our yaya. Then the twins Iryna and Fena. Girls, say hi to Dagger.”

Nadya, who was probably four or five, pursed her lips at him. “Why do you have dark hair?”

“Nadya!” Oxana snapped. “Don't be rude! Dagger isn't a Fyreblood.”

“But he gots fangs? Why he got dark hair and fangs?” She gasped and ran to her father.

Jullien knelt down on one knee and held his hand out toward her. “I won't hurt you, Nadya. I promise.”

Eyes wide, she looked up at her mother for confirmation.

“It's true,
couriana.
He's the one who saved your cousin Vasili.

“Really?”

Jullien nodded.

She approached him slowly. He held his hand up for her inspection. “See. I'm harmless.”

After a few seconds, she laced her fingers with his and smiled. “Okay. I'll believe you if you carry me.”

Jullien laughed as Oxana groaned.

“She's my con artist in training.”

Gathering her in his arms, Jullien stood. “It's my honor to carry her.”

“You say that now,” Sparn grumbled. “But she's heavier than she appears.”

Nadya stuck her tongue out as she settled herself into Jullien's arms and grinned happily. “Look Yaya! Naddi gots a ride to temple!”

“So you did, Naddicakes. So you did.”

Ushara smiled at the sight of Jullien carrying her niece while walking with Vasili. It did the strangest things to her breathing. And gave her a strange, weepy feeling inside.

Mary snuck up behind her to grab her into a hug. “He's gorgeous, isn't he?” she whispered in her ear. “And tell me … how sexy is a male who carries a baby without complaint? Couldn't you just gobble that up with honey and biscuits?”

“Would you stop?”

“Can't stop. Not when it's something that fine.” She made a purring noise.

“We're heading to temple and you're being awful.”

“I need something to confess. And given that you had unlimited access to that hard, nice
crowpyn
I'm amazed you're walking straight.”

Grimacing at her sister's vulgarity, Ushara prayed that Jullien couldn't hear them. But the devilish grin he cast her a few minutes later over his shoulder said that Mary's voice carried plainly to his exceptional hearing.

Great. That was all she needed.

As they reached the doors to the temple arena, Ushara sobered. Especially when she caught the expression on her older sister's face as Daryna waited for them inside.

It was chilling.

And by that cold, sinister glower, she knew Ryna would have an earful for her as soon as she reached her. Though honestly, she had no idea what she'd done to upset her older sister. Was it because of Jullien?

Ushara glanced around at all the Fyrebloods coming to temple and flinched at the large number. Before she faced her sister's wrath, they had to get through the temple gate and the high priestess who was waiting to greet them and bless them on their way in. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.

Suddenly, she felt sick.

Her heart pounding, she returned her gaze to Jullien. If he had any fear or reservation about this, he didn't show a bit of it. Instead, he kept his spine straight, his head held high and acted as if this was where he should be. As if he had as much right to be here as anyone else.

But boy, did he stand out with his darker coloring. There was no missing the fact that he was a darkheart in the midst of those who'd been brutally persecuted by generations of his predecessors.

They're going to sacrifice him on the altar of my blatant stupidity …

As they neared the priestess, Jullien set Nadya down so that Oxana could take her hand and have her blessed. Then Jullien went up to the high priestess.

“Greetings, blessed High Mother.” He held his hands out, palms upward, as if he'd done this a thousand times and was a practicing Demurrist.

She brushed them with her touch and marked them with her sacred oil, then looked up and froze as she saw his face and took in his Ixurian features.

Ushara heard her father curse under his breath as she held hers, fearing that Jullien was about to be rudely thrown out or asked to leave.

Or worse, set afire on the steps of their temple.

Instead, the elder priestess smiled warmly at him as she cupped his hands in hers. “Welcome,
drey
. The gods truly smile upon you this day. I often speak of a warrior's courage, but seldom do I see such in reality. And I know it took a true Kadurr to walk unarmed and in peace to these temple doors, knowing the hatred you'd face here.” Kissing his hand, she bowed before him. “I am humbled by your warrior's heart.”

Jullien returned the gesture and kissed each of her hands in turn. “I'm the one who's humbled by your gracious welcome, High Mother. And perhaps not so much courage as simple contentious stupidity.”

She laughed out loud. “And modest to boot.” Clearing her throat, she shook her head and struggled for composure. “Be welcome and blessings to you.”

“And to you, High Mother.”

As Ushara stepped up, the priestess narrowed her gaze on her. “Are you the one who brought him here?”

“I am, High Mother.”

She smiled. “The goddess is most pleased with you,
mu tina
. Rare is the soul that sees the heart beneath its worldly trappings. Rarer still is the one who isn't afraid to walk her own path through the brambles that strive to prick her heels and cause her pain. For some thorny paths are well worth the agony, for the rewards they bring are beyond measure.”

“Thank you.”

Once she was blessed, Ushara joined Jullien on the other side of the entrance and waited for Vasili.

Ryna continued to glare a hole through her.

Irritated, she walked over to her older sister who had gone back to having white-blonde hair again. Normally, Ryna dyed it a dark brown or rich caramel to help blend with other Andarions since she tended to fly into their territory more than the rest of them.

“What?” Ushara asked in agitation.

“I'm not talking to you.” She turned her back on Ushara and spoke to Vasili instead. “Did you know your matarra, my irritating little sister, introduced this male to your aunts and not me? Did you? The gaggling gander of geese, they get to meet him. What? Is she ashamed of the only sister she has with a brain?”

Vasili stood there, wide-eyed and terrified as if afraid to even attempt an answer or comment for her.

Then she turned to Jullien. “I'm Daryna or Ryna, by the way. You can't miss me as the only female sibling she has who doesn't make you wish you were headless or on another planet when I'm in a room with you.”

Jullien glanced about nervously. “Um … hi?”

“It's a pleasure.” She turned back to Ushara and glared at her. “You're such a thoughtless creature. Call me later.”

Ushara let out an irritated sigh as Ryna flounced off. “Have I mentioned that all my sisters are crazy?”

“No, but I'm beginning to wonder.”

Smiling, she took his hand and kissed it. “I have to go sit with the chorus. You two behave.”

Vasili led him to an empty bench on the left, near the back of the open temple that had a dark burgundy canvas spread across ornate, arched columns. They sat down toward the middle, and almost instantly a group of males swarmed them. One he knew. Two more he recognized from his “welcoming” party in the bay. The rest.…

Well, judging by their similarity in features, he assumed they must be some of Ushara's seventy-two relatives. Strangely amused by them, Jullien leaned over toward Vas. “Let me guess … your uncles?”

“And cousins.” He glanced over his shoulder. “My gre paran and grasparan are on the pew behind us.”

“Nice.… Glaring at me?”

Vasili nodded vigorously. “With a lot of hatred.”

“Awesome. I'm not as paranoid as I thought.” Jullien straightened and flashed his link on the icon for the liturgy so that he could review their schedule.

Vasili tugged at his sleeve. “Yet you appear amazingly calm.”

“Well, they'll either gut me or they won't. No use worrying about it until happens. Although…” He scowled at the huge bastard on his left. “I do wish this lovely beast would either buy me dinner or put a bit more space between us before he publicly fondles me.”

Muffled laughter erupted from the bench behind them. “You heard the boy, Kirill. Move over a bit and let him breathe.”

Smoke literally came out of Kirill's nostrils before he complied.

Jullien turned around to see the elder Fyreblood seated next to Ushara's father. “Thank you for protecting my innocence,
Gůr Tana.”

“By the gods, you are a cheeky little bastard, darkheart.”

“Vidarri! Mind your tongue in temple!” Scowling at him, she softened her expression as she leaned forward, toward Jullien and extended her hand. “I'm Ushara's yaya. Nadya. It's a pleasure to meet you. Dagger, was it?”

Pressing her hand between his, he bowed over it. “Yes, Ger Tarra. And the honor is all mine. I assure you. Until this moment, I thought Ushara took all her beauty from her mother. Now, I can't tell who she favors after more. Never has any family been blessed with more amazing females than yours.”

She tsked at him. “You are a handsome charmer.”

“I only speak the truth.”

Kirril curled his lip. “Now can I hit him, Graspa?”

Vidarri actually considered it. “I'm quickly getting there.”

Vasili snickered.

“Traitor,” Jullien said under his breath.

He looked up with a stricken expression.

“I was only joking.” Jullien put his arm around him and hugged him. “Relax,
mi tana
. I'd never be upset at you. Just don't get upset at me if I have to trip you to be an obstacle for them should I be forced to make a hasty run for the door.”

He laughed again.

“Shh!” Nadya snapped at them all from her seat. “Service is starting.”

Sobering, they rose as the chorus procession started and began leading the priestesses toward the dais and altar. It was only then that Jullien could truly appreciate how many of his enemies surrounded him.

And how much of an odd Androkyn out he was in this massive crowd. Yeah, this might not have been best idea.

Sadly, it wasn't his worst, either. Although, it was starting to rank up there rather high on his list of, “oh shit, I shouldn't have done that.”

It's not the first time you've stuck out like feces in a punch bowl.
And at least none of the individuals around him were pissed-off inmates who'd been imprisoned and tortured by his grandmother without due process.

Nor was he an unarmed, untrained child.

He flinched as a bad flashback tore through him. It took him a second to control his breathing and keep his composure. To maintain himself and remember where he was.

That he was safe. In control.

He placed his hand on Vasili's shoulder to remind himself that this was real.
This
wasn't a dream or hallucination. The other was just a bad memory. He wasn't there anymore.

Breathe, Jullien. Breathe.

But there had been a time when he couldn't control the panic attacks. When they had rendered him useless and left him a cowering wreck of volatile emotions.

And he wasn't the only one who'd suffered because of them in the past. Talyn Batur had been taken and brutalized because he'd been too far gone with one to stop his cousins. Had he been able to think straight and to control his panic attacks then, he would have never allowed Merrell or Chrisen to arrest and exile the boy. Their stupidity wouldn't have sounded so rational to him that day. But when Talyn had violently attacked him, Jullien hadn't seen a boy coming for him, he'd gone to the darkest places of his past and had lashed out from there like a cornered dog. Talyn had paid dearly for the wrongs others had done him.

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