Page 208 of Interion

“Yes, I don’t question the similarity—they both present the same symptoms. But what if it wasn’t a disease? What if they were attacked by some different, unknown power?”

Serguei had a very good point.

“Did any descendant display powers like that back when you were in Drutes?” Zion asked.

“Define ‘different.’” Serguei flashed a teasing smile. “All our powers are different—look at your own gift. Only you have control over shadows. However, aside from psychics, I don’t remember anyone with a gift that would leave a person in a coma with their mind blocked or destroyed. Much less a power that would leave a mark like that.”

“And once again we’re back to square one,” Zion murmured, staring at me. I nodded in agreement, feeling powerless.

“All we can do is wait for him to wake up,” Serguei concluded, looking disinterested again. “At least now he’s contained. Whether it’s a disease or a curse, he’s locked in the basement behind a thick barrier.”

That was a huge relief. I had no idea why no one had thought to put him in containment sooner. It should have been the first thing they did when he arrived, but because he was from Interion and badly injured, they hadn’t bothered.

A yawn caught me off guard, and when I glanced at my watch, it was almost midnight.

“Okay, everyone. This has been great, but I’m tired.” I got up and went to the sofa to grab the black book, placing it in front of the psychic. “Can you open it for me?”

He looked at me, a bit uncertain, then turned to the general.

“Swear you won’t take the opportunity to attack me,” Serguei said to Zion.

“I wouldn’t stoop that low,” Zion huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Swear it! Or I won’t open the book,” the psychic demanded, crossing his arms over his chest too.

“No,” Zion replied, determined.

“So you’re saying you would attack me?” Serguei narrowed his eyes at my partner.

“Afraid you can’t handle me without your powers?” Zion asked, full of himself.

“No. I’m afraid you’ll think you can beat me and I’ll be forced to ruin my lovely party by kicking your ass out the door.”

Zion laughed scornfully.

“I’d like to see you try, but I already said I wouldn’t stoop that low. If I wanted a fight, I’d pick a time when you were at full strength, so you couldn’t cry about it being unfair afterward, old man.”

Serguei narrowed his eyes at Zion. A wrinkle formed on his forehead, and I was pretty sure it was because of the nickname.

“Then why won’t you swear?”

“Because you’re going to have to trust me.” Zion smiled cynically.

I knew he was only doing this to irritate his father. Serguei didn’t even trust his own mind. They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, I cleared my throat.

“When are the two children—I mean, the two adults—going to stop growling at each other like puppies? Zion won’t attack, Serguei. Just open the book and we can go home.”

His expression was focused. He didn’t seem willing to give in, and I was getting tired.

“You said you’d open it,” I grumbled, pouting.

“I did, but I hadn’t considered this angle. I won’t open it until he promises.”

I clicked my tongue in disapproval. By the gods, this was exhausting. I didn’t want to ask that of Zion, didn’t want to speak directly to him. We stared at each other as the pride and stubbornness in our veins waged their own battle.

“I swear.” I heard Zion give in sullenly.

Serguei smiled and placed his palm on the book. The cover glowed with a black light, not red like mine.