I pull my phone out of my pocket, scooting the gray wolf's head toward my knees, only to scour my memory for who on earth I could even call. 

Ron, perhaps?

Trusting that the threat had been enough to ward them off, I pay little mind to the band that eyes me from across the room. I don't have the desire to deal with their curiosity at the moment.

 "What's wrong with your pet? Seems like a terrible party trick?" The tattooed siren remains in front of me in a kneeling position, examining us both, extending a finger to carefully flip the tip of the wolf's ear back and forth. "So soft."

It was the first time I had even heard Whitewind speak; judging by how overcharged I'd felt, it seemed to have overwhelmed his senses, the same as if I'd overused.

"He's exhausted," I allow, smacking his hand away, only to curse as I pat myself for his phone and then spot the tattered pair of pants. "Hand me those if you wish to help." 

Obediently, the man crawls over and returns with the pants so that I can rummage through them for his phone. Once it's firmly in my fingers, I allow a glance up. 

"What gives? Just like that, you're on our side? It seems quite unlikely." I decided to challenge him, uncertain if I should push the luck of our temporary truce, but I needed to know where we stood. 

I could use while I still had this burst of energy, worst came to worst, I was sure they still had blood in their veins. 

I could kill them if I must.

With a light chuckle, Tiberius sits cross-legged and rests his chin in his palm. It's as if I'm an artifact, put on display for him as entertainment. "Well, when a god tells you to fall in line, you tend to do it. Whitewind is-"

"The original lycan, I'm familiar." 

He seems impressed.

"Artifice." The friendly AI chimes cheerfully. "Send a message to Legardo Mercer to meet me at the Colosseum and to bring Tonya as well as a change of clothes for his father. Emphasize the need for haste." 

"Of course, Nicolas." The AI responds pleasantly.

After a long moment, Tiberius stands, stretching his long arms toward the ceiling before twisting with a satisfying pop in his joints. Those yellow eyes lock on me, taking me in, searching my very essence. I don't allow him the satisfaction of my discomfort with his prying gaze.

"I have to ask. Are you working with Mistress Corina? If she has a god on her side, this is going to be much more difficult. It'd be easier to kill you now before your help gets here..." The Siren shrugs innocently, resting his fists on his hips. 

Narrowing my eyes at him, I can only scowl. "No, I'm not with that vile woman. According to her press release, you are the ones working with her. You are the ones she'd laid claim to. I know enough of Sirens to know that they are hell-bent on trickery and soul-snatching. So, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to wait for my ride to get here in peace. Act or don't, I'll respond accordingly."

Tiberius seems amused, emitting a laugh that is almost a giggle, childish in a way. His hair fans out around his head as he lies back on some imaginary ledge, practically floating. His jacket fell away to expose the multiple tattoos covering his body to the point that his skin was hardly visible in some places. 

"I don't think that will be necessary," The siren concludes, folding his hands behind his head. "At least not yet. I have people I must protect, can't you admit I'd be a fool if I didn't ask? Gods are very much capable of flipping sides, as I'm sure you know."

Sensing my desire to keep my gaze averted, rejecting any attraction I felt for the beast, Tiberius chuckles once more. "Another perk of being a Siren, don't act so distressed. How did you like my song? Did you find it... exhilarating?"

"Dreadful," I respond as plainly as I can manage, giving him no more than what was necessary. The retort makes him laugh; I feel my anger burning under the surface. "Do you find everything so funny?" 

Tiberius props himself up on his elbow, scanning over the pair of us. "You must laugh when your existence is about to come to an end.  The world just finally got interesting; it's like a bad joke. A lycan's fucking a monk, you dirty boys..." Yet, after an extended moment of silence, when he was certain I had nothing left to say, the man finally allowed a slow breath to leave his chest.

 "In all seriousness, I wasn't going to let you two leave if you were going to try to stand in my way." Tiberius's tone takes on a much more serious air, not bothering to meet my gaze; those yellow eyes linger on his fingertips as he admires his painted nails.

"In the way of what, dare I ask?" I demand, thinking back to his mention of the failing planet. 

"While our destinations might be different, I think our paths are similar. When we arrived, we trusted the Mistress to help us, as that was the task bestowed upon the Solomonari by the gods: to correct the weather and restore balance. While she was successful at first, I'm sure you've noticed that a Solomonari's corrections are short-lived at best in poor conditions. It's only a temporary fix.

I'll be honest, I suspected that it was you. But I no longer trust the Mistress, and since she had a mounting obsession with eliminating you two, we decided it would be a good opportunity to meet that which she loathes. There's a movement gaining momentum. I'm starting to wonder if you're in charge of it."

So Red didn't start this? 

I feel my body deflate as I settle down onto my hip. All this time, I had thought this was all her doing. But if what he was suggesting is true, then she didn't know what was happening either. It might have truly started as an attempt to help, but it has ended with the inevitable.  

"I wish it were me doing it, that means we could fix it." My solemn tone effectively slows his excitement. "Verando had a suspicion that this was the end of days. Whitewind and Mother spoke to him before we-" I purse my lips, shaking my head at my stupidity. 

" Hearing this, now I feel it's true. He said you work for Hades...? Shouldn't you know what's going on then?"

The siren flashes me a coy grin, shrugging one shoulder. "Poseidon, mostly, we are the babysitters of the young gods, but we do appreciate a bit of mischief. Hence, our dabbling in the work of Fenrir and his sons. Whitewind was a gift, a rather cocky gift but a gift all the same; to er- your people, I believe." 

He examines me, snatching my hand to flip it over and observe my skin. 

"You know, I had heard there were more time travelers. The Solomonari are an interesting bunch, to think you're fucking the wolves gifted to you... hmm. Very curious. Do you fuck the dragons, too? " 

I gape at him, horrified, and he starts to chuckle again. 

"Oh my. That's hot, baby. Though judging by the look on your face, I'd say you're the one who receives." He exhales as I scowl, disgusted.

I don't want to be associated with anything related to this man. Wrinkling my nose, I jerk my hand back, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Is this about the whole soul thing? You're looking at me as if I'm the worst being you could imagine. Let me assure you, I only take poorly souls and by doing the concerts, we can feed without killing people. Lust, my dear friend, is a much greater food source than a mere soul."

I feel the electricity run to my fingertips as I clench my jaw. We needed their help; if they were truly on our side, I couldn't afford to be picky. "I think you'd be better suited to stop trying to explain yourself to me. You and I are in two very different categories." 

Tiberius winks at me, blowing me a kiss. "I think we'll get along quite nicely. You're so passionate. It's delicious."

Disgusted, I needed to change the topic. "Why're you doing this? What's in it for you?"

"With no humans to worship them, there are no gods. Gods only exist as long as there is someone to believe in them, and while we are not gods, we are disciples. With no humans, we have no way to feed. It's a slow death floating in an abyss of nothing, not the most exciting ending, I must say." The Siren muses, admiring the shades of the wolf's coat as he floats innocently. 

Much as I didn't want to find comfort in such a statement, if they were using humans for food, there was nothing more motivating than making sure the planet kept spinning. An eternity of starving in vast nothingness was surely motivation enough. 

"We're trying to go to France, if you want to help, that would be a start," I tell him, curtly.

Tiberius snorts at me, cocking an eyebrow. "France? Why on earth would you want to go there?" 

"Get me there first, and then maybe I'll tell you, Tiberius."

The siren strokes his chin thoughtfully, then nods, "I'll consider it. You must meet me again for another sensational conversation. I'll need another dose of this heat before too long; I could soak it up all day."

 I can't help but recoil, and he responds with an airy sigh. 

"I have some rehearsals to do for the performance, bring your lycan tomorrow, and perhaps we can have a true conversation about all this, nail down the dirty details, and what have you."

Reluctant, I nod. While we needed to return to the Dead City, this felt more urgent. It sealed my fate that I would be attending all of his endeavors in the near future. 

"Don't say something like that in front of him if you value your life. And, if you can keep your mouth shut about me being here today, you have a deal." I propose, and he extends his hand; his skin just as chilled as mine.

 Beneath the beautiful exterior, for a mere moment, I'm face to face with a creature that flashes beneath the surface: a demon, a mythical being born to kill. 

"I'm so looking forward to it." 

I hear the approaching footsteps, sighing in relief as Ron pushes the doors open.  

"Good evening, Ron. Such delightful company you keep, I must say. We're arranging to meet tomorrow. Please inform me when Mr.Mercer recovers, and we will settle on a time and a place." 

Standing, he twiddles his fingers at me as he disperses, and Ron rushes over to kneel beside us. 

"Did you wear the earplugs, as I instructed?" He asks, his tone exhausted. 

I hadn't spent much time around Ron, and I was feeling a bit protective as I clutched the wolf closer to me. It was starting to sink in how close we had come, how the future was so much more perilous than we had imagined.

It wasn't often someone rendered my warlord completely useless. With a mere hum, we were almost killed.

"Nicolas?" 

I blink at him; how did he know I was alive?

"Nicolas!" He snaps his fingers in front of my face and sighs. 

"Yes. Yes, I hear you. No, we didn't wear earplugs. Did you not think to add, in the memo, that the band is full of Sirens?"

"Sirens? Like mythology?" He asks curiously, and I frown; Ron is not an informant. 

He's merely a government official. 

"I suppose that makes sense; they do have quite the effect on the crowd." He has a few marks on his neck, and he promptly covers them up with his collar and clears his throat.

 Good for the old, round man. I hoped she was attractive. 

"Is Mr.Mercer alright? I received a call from Legardo?"

"He's just tired. The wolf takes it out of him sometimes-" 

Pulling out his briefcase, Ron sets it down on the ground and opens it. Producing a pair of jeans and a simple shirt, he takes a pill and holds it in front of the creature's nose before snapping it in half. 

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

Ron looks annoyed by my lack of expertise, "It's powdered adrenaline. Stand back." He pushes me backward as the wolf leaps to his feet, scrambling to right himself as he's contending with four legs instead of two. Shaking out his coat, he falls to the ground and curls. 

I rush to him, horrified, only for the wolf to become a man once more. 

Verando pants hard, pushing himself up onto his hip as he tries to catch his breath and catch up with his pounding heart. 

"Damn it, Ron! You know how I feel about that shit!" Verando snaps, and I throw my arms around his neck with a sigh of relief. We'd almost died; a moment longer, and we would have been snuffed out. The wolf was no longer the scariest thing; we were small fish in a massive ocean filled to the brim with monsters. 

He eyes my scuffed cheek, skirting his thumb over my bruised throat with a frown.

"I'm ok," I tell him gently, shifting awkwardly as he kisses my scuffed knuckles.

Pulling on the pants, Legardo and Tonya jog into the room as Verando stands. Tonya offers over a jacket, flushing at the man's physique and averting her eyes to the floor while he pulls on the t-shirt that stretches to accommodate him.

"Welcome back to the living," Ron responds dryly. "Your son, I presume? Legardo? Thanks for calling." 

Legardo scowls, and Ron laughs, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. 

"Ohhh yes, that's your son. Wow. What genetics." 

Verando gives Ron a stern look, frustrated with the size of the thin white shirt that left little to the imagination. The cut is quite interesting, tapering to follow his waist. If he weren't so mouth-watering, I'd giggle at the fact that he and Legardo had chosen the same expression.

"Yes, though I'm a touch confused, why're you here, Legardo?"

The name makes the pale-haired man flinch with distaste; I'm disappointed that none of their conversations have seemed to remedy this strained relationship between them. "Nicolas called us, saying that you were injured. Yet, you appear to be totally fine. Next time, an update would be nice. We left rather quickly and terrified the children that something had happened to you."

"There was no need, I'm-" Verando staggers, and before I can move, Legardo rushes to help him. While I grabbed the man's wrist, I wasn't sure if I could have held him up if I'd tried. "Damn it."

"It's adrenaline, remember, not cocaine. The effects are very temporary. I just wanted to get you on your feet and dressed, Mr.Mercer. I know how you value your dignity. Naked, carried by your family, isn't quite the style I pictured for you." 

I thank the pudgy man for saving me from that conversation because, truly, I wasn't sure how we were going to get him out of there. Tonya carefully approaches, though I notice this time she looks slightly bolder, as if she were retraining herself how to act around these beasts. 

Touching his wrist, she takes a pulse and makes a face. 

"Your heart rate is sky high; that might explain the lightheadedness. Let's get you home. I've brought my equipment, and I can monitor you further there when we're in a more secure location." 

The walk to the car is painfully slow; the concert is over, but the patrons seem to be partaking in the atmosphere. We trudge through the sweaty bodies of those consumed by the music, but the heavy crowd had its benefits; the press would have a hard time finding us. 

I didn't want to be seen with my hair revealed; I didn't want to risk Verando being caught off guard by one of our many enemies. Ron does an expert job of clearing a path as we are pushed into a large van, and Verando reluctantly hands over the keys of his sports car to Legardo to take home.

While I had hoped the drive back to our home had given the pair time to forgive each other for their misdeeds, it would appear that absence did not make the heart grow any fonder.

Not to be disappointed, the tension between the two in our kitchen while Tonya looked over my warlord was nearly overwhelming. 

Dealing with the dynamic of a failing marriage between Legardo and his wife, coupled with the man's anger towards his father for stealing his daughter, I felt as though my head might split from the stress of just occupying the same space.

 People were dying, and these children couldn't let go of a grudge to save their lives. 

It seems Tonya is the only one who isn't affected by the leering, yet she sits at the helm of the stress, burdened by her strained relationship with Legardo.

She's almost too cheerful, falsely so, overcompensating for the man's bad attitude and his father's lack of interest. Quiet bickering between the two makes me wish for whiskey, though at the risk of him partaking, I abstain. 

"Everything appears normal, but at the risk of being overly cautious, we'll stay the night to monitor you. I know it seems silly, but I'd like to be more aware of what these fainting spells are doing to your body. I have all of the data, minus a blood sample... though it honestly wouldn't hurt-" 

His lips part to argue, but I place my hands on his shoulders. 

"I know you claim to be immortal, but it wouldn't hurt to have a better baseline. Modern medicine may not fully understand what's happening to you, so we're left to our own devices when it comes to combating any possible side effects. Just humor me?" Tonya insists. 

"I think it's a good idea, we've had our questions regarding this before. I'd feel better knowing it's not causing any lasting damage. Besides, you need to sleep. I'll be right behind you-" I press a kiss to his neck, only to frown at his expression. "Just give me ten minutes?"  

"Ten minutes." Verando allows, kissing my forehead and muttering a thank you to Tonya. I fold my arms as he departs down the hall, using the wall for support at times. 

"Thank you both for your help; you don't have to stay." I offer them both an out, hoping and pleading that they take it, but Tonya waves me off.

"Nonsense. What if you need us? Additionally, this is an incredible opportunity to study modern medicine on a magical being. He's been shifting; I'm interested in seeing if the phasing has affected the repair to his shoulder, as well as tracking the muscle development, since I do have baselines for those. Any other time, he's going to think we're experimenting on him. Now we finally have an excuse!" 

Legardo shakes his head in disbelief, "A bloody excuse to waste everyone's time. If you think being friendly with him is going to bring Helen back, you're out of your damn mind. Wake up, Tonya." Storming off down the hall, he chooses a bedroom beside the one Marisol uses when she stays over, slamming the door.

I cringe at the boom, Tonya folds her hands, and I note the way they tremble. "He's such a child sometimes." 

"So.. you are separated then?" I frown, "I don't mean to intrude, so please... I just... If you want to talk?"

Tonya pauses, considering it; her thin lines find each other in a thin line as she stares down the hallway in quiet resentment. "Legardo has lied to me for much of our relationship; he seems unwilling to change, which means I must change if I want things to be different."

"That's very brave of you." I allow, earning the smallest smile at the corner of her tired mouth. "If you ever need help-"

"Thank you, Nicolas. If you'd like to help, please remind my daughter how much I love and miss her."