Sy-Ohna stared out over the horizon, a dark expression on his handsome face, his arms crossed over his burly chest. After several weeks of trying to track down Co-Bieasah and that human mate of his, one he’d been horrified to learn about, he’d had no luck. The angel from Marina Bay, the one who had recommended sending an outside source to hunt down the merman, had been sending him updates on where he had heard Coby had gone, or if he had a contact in a particular area who had seen the heretic and could tell Sy-Ohna more. Up until several days ago, he’d learned absolutely nothing and was getting fed up, his anger reaching a boiling point.

He’d arrived in Marina Bay nearly a week ago, tracked down that same angel, Scott Tulle, and confronted him about all the lies he had been feeding Sy-Ohna; the empty leads, false sightings, and contacts that didn’t exist. He’d expected the creature to roll over with fear and confess to where his prey was, to beg forgiveness on his knees. Instead, he gave him a proposition.

“What if I told you I can hand him to you in person?” he said, a smile on his smooth, perfect features, his blue eyes sly and untrustworthy.

Sy-Ohna had glared at him. “You’ve told me many things, winged pest,” he growled. “And none if it has been valid. What makes you think I’ll believe you now?”

“Because I know exactly where he is,” Scott replied. “He’s here in this town, tramping around with his…husband.” There was a look of such hate and disgust that crossed his features, Sy-Ohna felt a twinge of interest creep up through the cloud of doubt that surrounded his mind.

“Husband?” he said, his brow furrowing. “That’s impossible. Merfolk like him do not marry, it is not done.”

Scott’s lip twitched. “It is done everywhere,” he said, his voice hard. “If I had known you would be so narrow-minded, perhaps I would have just contacted the traffickers instead. Young gay men are quite profitable in their trade, as a matter of fact.” He nodded, his mind resolved. “Yes, that is what I’ll do. I’ll benefit more from that arrangement, anyway. Good luck to you in your search, Sy-Ohna.” He turned away, hands folded behind his back.

Sy-Ohna grabbed his shoulder, his chest clenching. He hadn’t forgotten what Co-Bieasah had said about Da-Hana selling him and the rest of their tribe to these types of people, and he had refused to believe it then. Yet, during his travels through this godforsaken land, he’d heard too many people talk about these humans who hunted and traded in merfolk. Also, the report he’d heard from a few of his men regarding the village that had been hunted to nothing several weeks ago did nothing to assuage his fears that of all Co-Bieasah had said, this one thing may actually be true.

Still, he simply could not believe that Da-Hana would betray them all like that. It wasn’t his way.

“Wait,” he said sharply. As loath as he was to admit it, he couldn’t let this creature get away, to allow someone else take what was his.

Scott stopped, turning his head just enough to look at him.

Sy-Ohna sighed. “Alright. So he is wed to another man. It doesn’t change the fact that he is still my enemy and must pay for his crimes.” This is simply one more. “Tell me where he is.”

“And let you terrorize my town until you get him in your hands?” Scott scoffed. “I think not.”

“I sent a message with that city,” Sy-Ohna said firmly. “I have done nothing that extreme since.”

“Only terrify several people and amass a large army of vermin along the way.”

“Because you told me they had information,” the large merman growled, bearing his teeth. “I have followed a trail of lies since the moment I met you, Tulle, and I am half-tempted to rip your wings off for it.”

The angel flinched, jerking from his grip. Sy-Ohna grinned, happy the things he had heard about such a punishment toward the Divine was true.

“Tell me where he is,” he said again.

Scott turned fully around, his expression easing. “I would prefer to give him to you myself. It would be much easier that way, especially as I’m sure I can…convince him, shall we say, that it would be in his best interest to return to the sea. He won’t argue.”

Sy-Ohna’s eyebrow twitched. “It sounds to me like you want him to leave quite badly.”

Scott snorted, an undignified sound from one so beautiful. “You have no idea,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “He is a vile little thief who stole what belongs to me. A sinner of the highest order who deserves eternity in the Ninth Realm.”

Sy-Ohna had no idea what Scott meant by that, but he assumed it had to be a place where criminals and villains were sent. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a slight bit of amusement at the angel’s overt hatred for the acolyte. 

“Do you have a plan as to how you will deliver him to me?” he asked, folding his arms over his broad chest, glaring down at Scott from his great height. 

The angel grinned. “As a matter of fact I do. I had planned on reaching out to an old contact of mine back in the Veil, someone highly versed in tracking, recovery, and delivery. He may ask a price a little higher than I’d like, but he’s worth it.”

“He better be.”

Scott flinched. 

“After all your lies, my patience with you has run out. If you don’t follow through this time, whatever price you must pay to your contact, will be a mere pittance to what you will owe me.”

He watched the creature’s throat work and what the warrior could only assume was a flash of fear crossing behind those blue eyes.

“He’s worth it,” he said again. 

Sy-Ohna’s hand twitched over his arm, his jaw clenching. “I will give you one week, no more.”

Scott nodded once. “Of course. I can have him to you by then, don’t worry.”

“Don’t make me.” With that, he turned away, heading back to the old house he had procured along with a few of his men.

Thinking over that conversation, Sy-Ohna recalled the small tells the angel couldn’t hide, the details he omitted, the falsehoods he carefully constructed to make them sound believable. He did not believe Scott Tulle could convince Co-Bieasah of anything, least of all to go with him, or his contact, willingly. Not after all he’d learned from his men back at the city. According to them, Ge-Marah and several other Sarathians were making it a habit to come to this wretched land to train the heretic. Though they never said where he was, they did say he had grown stronger, faster, more capable with his energy.

If that were the case, he would be far more difficult to manage than he was the last time. Co-Bieasah would not come quietly, would not come willingly, would not give up without a fight. 

That, he realized with a wry grin, was what he looked forward to the most. Waiting patiently was something Sy-Ohna could do well; it made the pay off that much more enjoyable. However, time was running out and he was starting to get antsy. He’d not heard a single word from that damned winged beast in days and his anger was beginning to not only include Co-Bieasah, but Scott Tulle as well.

“Boss,” a deep voice said from behind him. Sy-Ohna turned to see one of his men, a fellow Sarathian who had come to land with him to recruit more allies in his crusade against Co-Bieasah. The merman handed Sy-Ohna a phone, something he was still getting used to using, a grim expression on his face.

Sy-Ohna took it, his brow furrowed as he read the message on the screen. Taking in the report, his eyes blazed, his jaw clenched and the hand around the device tightened until there was an audible crack. 

It was bad enough the brat had defeated his captor and managed to evade Tulle’s grasp, but he was also seen wielding the power of a god, a blasphemous act that deserved only one recourse:

Death.

<Return to the city,> he commanded in Sarathian, his voice low and dangerous. <Bring back our men and meet here in two days.>

<What will you do?> the warrior asked.

<Hunt down that blasted angel and tear him limb from limb.> He squeezed the phone tighter, the screen shattering in his hand. <Lies,> he growled. <Nothing but lies have come from that beast’s mouth since our first meeting, and he will be made to pay for each one of them in turn.>

<It’s possible he ran in the face of his defeat,> the merman suggested.

Sy-Ohna nodded. <If he’s smart, that’s exactly what he did. Unfortunately for him, I know his scent. I will find him easily enough. In the meantime, I will do as I had planned from the very beginning.>

The merman’s eyebrow lifted. <You will go after the acolyte yourself?>

<And destroy all he has built in the process.>

<What of the Flame?>

The phone turned to dust in Sy-Ohna’s grasp. <I will remove it from his person, take the power he stole from his body, and return it and his corpse to the sacred caverns where they belong. The Flame as our guiding light, and Co-Bieasah as a warning.>

<A warning, sir?>

Sy-Ohna turned his dark gaze on his man. <A warning to anyone who dares believe themselves equal to a god.>

He opened his hand, the remains of the land-based device spilling to the floor, his sharp serrated teeth bared. 

<And one to anyone who dares defy the Commander of the Sarathian Army.>

**