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“But—”

“Now’s not the time,” Grayson added, oddly becoming the voice of reason. Grayson’s voice grew louder, and I had a feeling he’d taken the phone from Martin. “Before you ask, Vi and Blu are fine. I’m not sure the same can be said about your quarters though… I mean, they’re not completely trashed, but let’s just say the little ladies have done some redecorating.” Grayson coughed into the phone. “I’m just saying, you might want to stay in Lazarus’s room for a bit when you get back. Maybe.”

I desperately tried to ignore the concern that shot down my spine. “Is it that bad?”

“Hmm… That word can mean something different to everyone. It’s not bad like someone’s injured or dying. Oh! Speaking of, Eldon’s doing okay too. Still pretty depressed and obviously worried, but according to Tabitha, he’s been eating more. Tabitha’s even gotten him out of his room and walking down the halls a time or two.”

That sounded like progress. “Thank you, Grayson. I appreciate the update.”

“No worries. My guess is that’s not why you called though.”

“Unfortunately, it is not.”

“I’ll get Martin back on the phone then.”

I heard a bit of quiet argument before Martin’s steady voice asked, “What do you need me to do?”

The constant pressure pushing on my chest eased. That was Martin’s gift. His steady, dependable presence and willingness to do what was needed without question or fail. Taking a deep breath, I explained what we’d just learned regarding Verona and our concern about her brother, Axios. A litany of creative cursing filled the background as Martin relayed what he’d learned.

“I’m on my way,” Grayson hollered into the phone, followed by a quieter, “I’ll be careful.” I assumed the last was aimed at Martin. I heard what sounded like a quick kiss followed by a few seconds of quiet.

“Gray’s gone,” Martin said, his voice soft and lacking its earlier spark.

“I’m sorry to ask this of him,” I offered, meaning every word.

“I know,” Martin quietly answered. “He’ll be fine. Gray knows what he’s doing.” I wasn’t certain if Martin was trying to reassure me or himself. “As for Vi and Blu, we’ll keep a closer eye on them. I’ll contact those both within and outside of the barrier. We’ll keep traffic in and out to a minimum until we learn more.”

Warm fingers wrapped around mine and when I traced the arm back, I found a much calmer version of Lazarus on the other end. Horns gone and irises back to their wondrous sapphire blue, Lazarus gave the phone a little tug. I released my grip. Lazarus gave me a barely there nod and offered a grateful tilt of his lips.

“There’s a good chance Verona will come after the girls,” Lazarus spoke into the phone. “She may just as likely come after me here in Europe,” Lazarus added. Unlike Jima, my hearing wasn’t good enough to understand Martin’s response.

Head nodding, Lazarus answered, “Verona is vengeful, and we do not know exactly how she escaped. Thalia believes she had aid. We simply do not know where that aid came from.” Lazarus continued, nodding here and there. “That is possible,” he answered. More silence before Lazarus said, “Currently, all we have is conjecture… Yes, thank you, Martin. Your aid is greatly appreciated.”

After a few more seconds, Lazarus handed the phone back to me. Martin and I said a few quick goodbyes before we ended the call. Handing Lazarus’s damaged phone back to him, I said, “I need to inform Grandmother. As you said, there is a chance Verona will come for us first.”

“Me,” Lazarus answered.

“Us,” Jima and I said in unison. “We’re a team,” Jima added. “Better together and all of that.” Jima’s grin lit up his face. That grin faded when there was a knock at the door. Jima transformed, slipping beneath the bed as one of Grandmother’s flight members brought in a tray of food.

“Lady Usha thought you might be hungry.” I didn’t recognize the younger female, and she gave no indication as to her thoughts. She reminded me of a younger version of my cousin.

Stepping closer, I asked, “Could you please let my grandmother know I need a moment of her time?”

“I will,” she answered before setting the tray down and walking out the door.

As soon as the snick of the door closing sounded, Jima popped out from under the bed. I swear drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. “Thank the Goddess. I’m starving.” Without waiting or needing further invitation, Jima dug into the food. Most of the offerings were meat but there were plenty of carbs and greens in the mix. Jima didn’t appear to be picky. I’d learned a long time ago that shifters’ metabolisms ran hot and Jima had been doing a lot of shifting back and forth. He needed the calories.

All of us did. Thankfully, my grandmother hadn’t skimped on the offerings. Nerves kept my hunger at bay, but I forced myself to eat. Goddess knew I needed every advantage I could get in the coming days and weakening my body by not providing it fuel was beyond foolish.

Sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, Lazarus didn’t seem to share my opinion. Loading a plate, I brought it to him and sat at his side. “We’ll find her,” I attempted to soothe.

“Doubtful,” Lazarus answered, and when I started to argue, he added, “Verona will find us.”

Lazarus’s answer didn’t improve my appetite. Regardless, I ate.

Lulabelle scoffed, eyes rolling. “Xavier will cream his pants when he hears this.”

“Language, Lulabelle,” Grandmother scolded, her words lacking heat and her twitching lips betraying her ire, as if the words were mere protocol and nothing more.