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simply. “I had Jack. And then, if only for a little while, I had you and your prince and his warriors. Now I’m not sure I want any of it. I’m tired. Ten years of fighting the good fight should be enough for anybody.”
    Jack sneezed and rolled over on his back, all the while keeping those orange eyes trained on Quinn.
    She almost smiled. “No, I’m not giving up and showing the bad guys my belly, fur face. And if you want to give me crap about my decisions, you’re going to have to change back into a human and do it out loud.”
    The tiger deliberately turned his head away, and a shimmer formed in Quinn’s eyes before she dragged one sleeve across her face.
    Several white-robed people appeared at the entrance to the courtyard, wearing expressions of horror, disbelief, and even shock. Alaric attempted to view the scene through their eyes and realized it was, in fact, worthy of horror and shock. Dead, bloody bodies lay in crumpled heaps all over the floor. The peace of the sanctuary had been brutally invaded.
    He was too tired, too jaded, or too hardened to feel horror, though. Just a grim resignation that now, yet again, the battle was on. Even when he tried to escape the fight, it followed him. As did skepticism, cynicism, and suspicion. Why were these people only arriving now? Had they been part of a larger betrayal?
    One of them started babbling. “Archelaus, what happened? You— We heard— The portal—”
    “I’d like to know that, too.” A calm voice interrupted the man’s broken words.
    “Ven,” Alaric said. “I should have guessed.”
    “Somebody needed to save you from yourself,” Ven said, striding into the room. “I figured it oughta be me.”

    Quinn’s lips quirked into a grin as another six and a half feet of Atlantean warrior—this one a prince—joined the party. “Ven. Always a pleasure to see you. Do we need somebody beat up and I forgot?”
    Ven laughed and scooped her up off the ground and into a bear hug. “Hello, little sister. Glad to see you in one place. What in the nine hells happened here?”
    “Flying monkeys.”
    He roared with laughter. “So does that make kitten over there Toto?”
    Quinn noticed Alaric’s face darkening as he watched her in his friend’s arms, and she didn’t have to be an emotional empath to know what he was feeling. She tactfully stepped away from Ven and glanced at Jack, who was snarling at them all.
    “Don’t flash those fangs at me, Meow Mix,” Ven advised, but she could see the concern underneath the banter. He and Jack had developed a friendship over the course of time they’d known each other. Of course, it was hard not to like Ven. He was gorgeous and didn’t know it; a funny, direct, “let’s grab a beer and watch some bad movies” kind of guy, who just happened to be hell on wheels with a sword, a gun, and pretty much every other kind of weapon. He was the high prince’s brother and guardian—which made him Quinn’s sister Riley’s brother-in-law—he was known as the King’s Vengeance, and he was pure adrenaline in a battle.
    And his girlfriend Erin was the most powerful witch Quinn had ever met.
    Right now, though, there was no trace of amusement on Ven’s face as he scanned the destruction. “Do you want to explain this?”
    Alaric scowled but said nothing, so Quinn filled Ven in on what had happened.
    “That’s it? No reason? No evil villain monologuing on why he’s attacking you, blah blah blah?” Ven whistled. “This stinks of something bigger than a random monkey attack.”
    “Not to mention, they’re not random monkeys,” Archelaus said, from where he’d been sitting in the shadows.
    “Greetings, old friend,” Ven said, bowing. “What have you gotten us into this time?”
    Archelaus smiled and shook his head. “This, from the most unrepentant troublemaker the warrior training grounds have ever seen.”
    “I did what I could,” Ven said, ducking his head modestly.
    In spite of everything, Quinn