Born of Defiance (24 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

BOOK: Born of Defiance
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Talyn glanced away sheepishly. “I didn't go to the right schools.”

“From where did you graduate?”

“Brunelle Academy.”

“Is that in Eris?”

“No, sir. It's a Hyshian school.”

Lorens passed a shocked stare to Felicia before he returned his attention to Talyn. “Hyshian? Why in the name of the gods were you in a Hyshian academy?”

Talyn cringed inwardly as he saw this disaster coming and couldn't avert it. He hated answering this question more than anything. “It was the only one that would take me.”

“I don't understand. What's your lineage?”

Heat suffused his cheeks as he cringed over that inevitable question. “My mother's the third daughter of the Winged Blood Clan Batur.”

“Impressive. And your father?”

Here it comes.…

“He's an Outcast, sir.”

“Oh.” Yeah, there it was. That sound of horror and condescension.

Talyn glanced to Lorens's sons. “I can understand if you need to leave now.”

Lorens hesitated. “If either one of you breathes a word of this to your mother or grandmothers, I'll beat you till you bleed.”

They held their hands up in quick surrender.

“To the grave, Paka,” Brach breathed.

Gavarian reached for more bread. “I don't know what you're talking about. We're all good here. I didn't hear nothing.”

Lorens grinned. “That's right. Just having dinner with my baby sister. Don't know of the harm in that.”

But an awkward silence hung in the room while they finished eating.

“Is your father why you don't give interviews?” Lorens finally asked.

Talyn nodded. “It's not something others need to know about me.”

“Where's your father now?”

“Don't know, sir. I've never met him.”

Her brother paused to consider that. “He was disinherited before you were born?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lorens, is it okay if we change the subject?” Felicia asked graciously. “Talyn is an Andarion of high honor and an extremely capable fighter pilot. I would run him up against anyone on Andaria.”

Reaching out, Talyn squeezed her hand in gratitude.

“I'm sorry I was nosy. You're right. It's none of my business. And I hope I didn't offend you, Talyn.”

“No offense taken, sir. I'm used to being judged for my father's shortcomings.”

Lorens looked ill as he must have realized how inconsiderate he was being to his host. “Talyn? Would you be adverse to my seeing what I can do to move you into a command position?”

Talyn's eyes lit up with a hopeful joy that tightened her throat for him. “I would love nothing more, sir. Honestly. Just don't ask me to throw a fight for it.”

He laughed. “No. I won't do that. And I don't expect anything for it. We could use an Andarion like you. The gods know I'm sick of the subsentient creatures they keep sending me. You wouldn't believe what passes in the academies today. I had this one officer, a colonel no less, actually asked me where Arundel was located.”

Talyn's jaw dropped. “Our northernmost outpost?”

“See! You know right where it is. Oh, and there's a commander I met who still thought Huwin Quiakides was the prime commander for The League.”

Talyn winced at
that
stupidity. Huwin had been assassinated by his own son a decade ago. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. You see what I have to deal with? And here's my quiz for you. Who's Nemesis?”

“Rogue assassin wanted dead by The League, who, along with four others, leads The Sentella.”

He looked at his sons. “And that, my boys, is why you pay attention not only in school, but watch the news.” He held his glass out for more wine. “Seriously, I have got to get you into command. I can't take the idiots there anymore. I'm over it.”

Felicia laughed. “You sound so much like Paka that it's frightening.”

“I know, right? The very thing I swore I'd never be is what I morphed into the minute I had kids and took a command position. What was I thinking?”

Felicia shook her head playfully at his feigned angst.

As soon as they finished eating, Talyn led the boys to his gym. They stripped down to their pants while he showed them how to strap on the gloves and padded head protection. When he stripped down to his pants, their jaws dropped.

Gavarian laughed nervously as he scanned Talyn's body with an envious stare. “I thought they doctored those pictures of you in the magazines. Shit, you're ripped.”

“Gavarian!” Lorens snapped. “Watch your language!”

“But Paka … look at his body. How do you get
that
kind of definition?”

Talyn snorted as he finished putting his gloves on with his fangs. “I work out a lot, and you see what I eat. You willing?”

He looked down at his much smaller frame. Screwing his face up, he glanced to his brother. “We have noble titles for female magnets. We don't need muscles. Marshmallow pecs and high lineage are the new ripped.”

Talyn rolled his eyes before he walked them to one of his training mannequins. “All right. Pointers. You don't just start swinging. It's not about power. It's all control. Power without control is absolutely worthless. You don't just throw a punch or kick. You have to know when to pull them, too.” He demonstrated by stopping his powerful blows just short of striking the dummy.

“How you do that?” Brach gasped.

“Like I said. Control. You have to be aware of every muscle in your body, every second you're in a fight.” Talyn punched the dummy so hard, he lifted it up and rattled the chain. “Now, you try.” He stepped back for Gavarian to punch it.

Smirking, he did, and then cursed again. With a fierce frown, he cradled his hand to his chest. “Mommy! I think I broke my hand. How heavy is that thing?”

“Three hundred and twenty-five pounds. It's what an average Zoftiq fighter weighs.”

They gaped again.

“Seriously? How did you move it?”

Talyn kicked it and lifted it up again. “I weigh three hundred and twenty pounds. As of his last weigh-in, Death Warrant is four hundred and eight pounds. And I practice a lot. As I said, you haven't been punched until you stand toe-to-toe with a pro.”

They both tried to kick the bag and neither could move it at all. It just hung there, taunting them with its rude inertia.

Felicia moved to stand by Lorens while Talyn coached the boys on how to hit and kick so that they could actually move the bag.

“You all right?”

Her brother glanced down at her. “Having a weird moment while I reevaluate my way of thinking about things I once held sacred and true.”

“What do you mean?”

“Talyn's not what I expected. At all.”

“He's amazing, isn't he?”

Lorens nodded. “Thank you so much for this. You have made Gavarian's life.”

“Thank you for saving Talyn's with that transfer to the palace.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Now that I've spent an evening with him, I know how doctored his report files have been. Anatole must really hate him. I just can't figure out why.”

“His mother went to school with Anatole. She thinks it's a personal grudge from back then.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense. The gods know Talyn isn't the disrespectful, reactionary moron his evaluations claim. Believe me, I'm around those idiots daily. Damn, I hate that I gave him over to the palace after I read his file. I really meant what I said earlier. We could use someone like him in my division.”

“Can't you transfer him again?”

“It's not that easy. If he was above an O-4 in rank or
-12-6 in lineage, yes. There wouldn't be a problem. But he's just high enough in rank to stay in protective detail and not rise to command level.”

“Can he not buy a promotion?”

“Again, it's not that easy, Felicia. Anatole's bullshit has really done a number on the kid's advancement potential. And while I can pull strings for Talyn, Anatole can pull just as many, if not more, against him.”

“That's what his mother said. I was hoping she was wrong.”

“She wasn't. You wouldn't believe the favors I had to call in to get him transferred to the palace. No one wanted to touch him because of his negative reports and disciplinary strikes.”

“Hey, Paka! Did you hear that?”

Lorens arched a brow at Gavarian's shout. “Hear what?”

“Talyn said that we can come to his fights anytime we want. Ringside!”

Lorens smiled. “That's really nice to offer, but I know those seats are limited and I don't want to shove his family out.”

“It's no problem,” Talyn said as he handed water bottles to the boys. “We always have seats to spare. My mother and Felicia refuse to watch me get punched—no idea what's up with that. You'd think after putting up with me, they'd be paying my rivals to kick it for them. And my trainer rarely has his friends come—he's afraid one of them might poach me from him. As for his daughter, she hates Ring fights. So just let me know at least two hours in advance, and I can get you added to the list for the seats any time you want them.”

Lorens gaped at her. “You really never go?”

“I'm there. I just stay in the locker room. Like Talyn said, I don't want to watch him get hurt. It pains me to see him get hit. Even in old video clips.” She shivered at the memory of when she'd mistakenly thought she could watch a former match of his from years ago. Unable to deal with what he took without flinching, she'd turned it off forty seconds in.

Lorens grinned. “Then I have to say that I'd love to come see your fight with Death Warrant.”

Talyn looked over at the boys. “How many seats? We have six allotted in total.”

“You don't have friends who want them?” Lorens asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Talyn said with a laugh. “They're clubbing each other in the head for them. All none of them … You want all six?”

Lorens smiled so wide, his fangs showed. “Hell, yeah. You'll make me the most popular Andarion on my shift. Thank you.”

“No problem. Just don't forget your ID. You'll need it to pick up the tickets.” He went back to coaching the boys.

Felicia froze as Lorens hugged her. It was the first time in her life he'd ever done that.

“Thank you, Felicia.”

“Don't thank me. He obviously likes you and the kids or he wouldn't have offered. Trust me. He's not social or insincere. And he doesn't expect anything in return.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I know I've been a giant asshole to you all your life. I'm really sorry about that. I should have had dinner with you a long time ago. For no reason.”

She patted his back. “It's okay. I'm the bastard child who wasn't supposed to be born. You and your family aren't the only ones who get pissed off about it.”

He scowled at that. “What do you mean?”

“My mother wasn't and isn't exactly thrilled by the complication of having me as a bonus from your father.” But unlike Talyn, her father wasn't a bastard himself, so he'd been immune from prosecution. Felicia was merely an inconvenience for him. Not jail time.

“Well, I am glad that I finally got a chance to know you tonight. I hope we can have more talks and meals, and not always with Talyn in tow.”

His words warmed her. Did he mean them? She wasn't sure, but it was a nice gesture for him to make. “Really?”

He winked playfully. “Don't get me wrong. The boyfriend is a sweet bonus, but I'm not doing this to have access to him. I meant what I said. I've been doing some soul searching lately, and have learned a valuable lesson here tonight about judging people, and assigning them categories based on their births and parents.” He kissed her head. “I have spent many, many nights at dinners with the ranked and privileged, and never have I had more fun or seen my kids laugh more than we've done tonight.” His eyes glowed as he watched his sons sparring with Talyn, who had all the patience in the universe with them. “He's really good with kids, isn't he?”

“It's actually the first time I've seen him with them. But yes, he is.” Her eyes widened as Gavarian hit the bag and finally lifted it.

“Ha!” he shouted in triumph. “I did it! Take
that,
bag!”

Talyn tapped gloves with him. “Impressive hit. You're a quick learner. Good job!”

Felicia laughed as her nephew did a goofy walk of pride.

“Nah, nah,” Talyn teased. “You do this.”

She laughed even harder at his ridiculous strut that reminded her of a wounded chicken. “Please don't teach him that! I'm sure his parents want grandkids one day, and no female will
ever
find that attractive.”

Talyn pouted. “Not even when
I
do it? C'mon, Licia, you know I make
this
look sexy.”

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