“Dad, what’s going on? Who is he?” the young man asked again.
Valek’s father ignored the questions. He walked toward Valek with his brown-eyed gaze locked on him and as paralyzing as Curare. Gray had replaced his once-black hair, and wrinkles lined his leathery face. A part of Valek noted that he wore a tanner’s uniform as required, but various colored dyes had stained the white diamonds.
Relaxing his grip on the hilt of his sword, Valek dismounted and stood at the gate. He clamped down on the maelstrom of shock, pain, fear and grief that raged inside him. Instead, he channeled the calm detachment he’d learned to rely on during times of great danger.
When his father reached the other side of the gate, he opened it and said, “Welcome home, son.”
Those three words slammed into him. He rocked back on his heels, and only Onyx’s solid body behind him kept Valek upright.
“Son? What are you talking about?” the young man asked. His voice squeaked with alarm.
“This is Valek, the Commander’s chief of security and your older brother,” his father said. “Valek, this is Zebulon.”
Zebulon’s shocked expression meant his...their father hadn’t mentioned Valek before. And he wondered if Father had told him about Vincent, Viliam and Victor.
Just then his mother yelled from the house, “Kalen, Zeb, get in here! The twins are back! They’re alive!”
Without a word, both men bolted to the house. Valek sagged against Onyx, glad for the few minutes to collect his wits, which had scattered when his father called him son. Completely unexpected, the word woke the small boy who had hidden deep down inside him. The child who craved his parents’ love and approval and wished to be held and comforted. And although he tried to shove that young boy back into his slumbering coma, the damage was done. Valek suddenly needed Yelena’s touch and her strength. With her support, he could endure this encounter. Without it—he might lose control of everything.
Valek pulled in a few deep breaths, knowing he didn’t have much time before the entire family came spilling from the house. No matter what happened, the twins still needed to go to Sitia. However, he suspected leaving after only a few hours would be impossible for all concerned.
As predicted, five people streamed from the house. His mother led the way straight toward him. She held a large kitchen knife and her expression was not welcoming. Not at all. Anger and determination emanated from her blue eyes—the mother bear protecting her cubs. She’d saved his life. And the nail-shaped scars still marked his shoulder from when she had held him back from attacking the soldiers who’d murdered his brothers.
Valek fought the instinct to grab his knives in the face of her charge. The others shouted after her to stop and think and calm down, but her stride never wavered. She halted on the other side of the open gate and brandished her weapon. The others fell silent, or rather held their collective breaths.
“You will not harm my children. You will not take them away,” she said.
“I have no intention of harming them.” Glad his voice didn’t shake, he added, “Now that I know who they are, I will ensure they are protected once they’re in Sitia.”
“What do you mean, now that you know?” Mother demanded. “You’ve known all along.” She gestured with the knife. “You’ve sent your spies to watch us since the takeover.”
“I sent them to protect you, not spy on you. They are only to report if someone comes after you because of me. Not about your personal life.” Valek glanced at his three...siblings. “And I take it you didn’t tell your new children about your old children?”
“They know about the others, but not you. You’re an assassin. The Commander’s killer. Everyone hates and fears you—they didn’t need to know they are related to an abomination.”
The word sliced into him. He encouraged others to feel that way about him, but hearing it from his mother had an unexpected impact. Recovering, he asked, “And how did you explain my agents?”
“We made them part of our family. The kids and the neighbors think we hired them,” his father said.
Not a bad idea, except for the fact that his agents’ covers had been blown for years and Valek hadn’t known.
“I don’t care if you’ve been protecting us,” Mother said. “They are not going with you.”
“Calm down, Olya. Let’s go inside and talk about this.” Father placed his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.
“They are coming with me,” Valek said. “Either we do this the hard way, and you’ll have no time to spend with them. Or the easy way, and you’ll get...the rest of the day together.” A day of pure hell for him. Another day away from Yelena.
“I’ll go with him,” Zethan said.
“No! He’ll kill you. That’s what he does. It’s all he knows,” Mother accused.
That was the breaking point. Valek moved. In a heartbeat, he unarmed his mother. “If I’d planned to kill them, they’d be dead by now.” He handed the knife to his father. “Now spend time with your children. We’re leaving in the morning.” Valek met Zohav’s gaze. “You know what I’m capable of. Try anything—”
“And we’ll go to the Citadel as cargo,” Zethan finished. “Got it.”
“Citadel?” his father asked Valek.
“Actually, the Magician’s Keep. They need to learn the extent of their magic.”