"What's wrong?" Blake asked.

Greyson shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" Blake asked.

"It's been a week and a half since he fought Eden at their first arranged match," Greyson told him. "And he's disappeared for a few hours each day. I'm just… worried."

Blake sighed, then sat on the bed beside the younger teen, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"You're thinking about your family again, aren't you?" Blake asked, and Greyson nodded. "Do you want to go back?"

"No," Greyson shook his head, fierce determination in his eyes. "They were terrible to me. I don't want to see them ever again. But Cameron… he's never really known his family. I, um… I did some digging."

Greyson felt a little ashamed of it. He'd pressured Cameron into revealing some of his past, and while he didn't know how much of it was true, he was sure at least part of it was. And that his pressuring had resulted in something unwanted.

He was scared that because of his pushing, Cameron might run away, leaving them to return to truly living on the streets.

"What kind of digging?" Blake asked.

"He grew up an orphan," Greyson looked down at his lap, where he started playing with his hands. "I don't know what happened with his mom, but she gave him up at birth, he said. He was adopted, but the adoptive parents died when he was two. He got adopted again pretty fast, but before the waiting period for finalization was up, they died. By the time he was five, he'd been in three homes. He got put into an orphanage, where he stayed until it burned down a few years later, then started getting bounced around from home to home until he ran away a little more than two years ago. And now… he's disappearing again."

"You think he's planning on leaving?" Blake asked.

"Yeah," Greyson responded quietly. "I think he feels like he's been here too long, and that's why he's gone so much the last few days. He doesn't-he doesn't have family, and he-he… I want to be his family."

"Hey," Blake sat down beside Greyson and rubbed his back. "Just talk with him. For all we know, he found someone who can teach him how to use his mind magic. That, or he just wants some space. He does hang around us almost all the time, don't forget."

"Yeah," Greyson smiled weakly at the werewolf. "You know, with him being around so much, the time that we had together, alone, was kind of interrupted. We haven't done any of our special, secret training since he came to stay with us."

Blake smiled at the younger teen, before pulling off his shirt, standing, and moving right in front of Greyson, who reached out with both hands and placed them on the older teen's stomach.

Inhaling deeply, Greyson focused his power and began to manipulate the blood within Blake's abdomen. The werewolf grunting, clenching his teeth as pain shot through his stomach. They'd been secretly working on Greyson's magical combat ability before they met Cameron.

Due to the preteen's suspicion of them, they didn't want him to know about it out of fear he'd bolt, and neither of them wanted that. Otherwise, they'd have let him be the third person in on the secret – the other two being them.

Blake whimpered in the back of his throat as he felt his flesh tear, and Greyson pulled his hands back, the werewolf stumbling back a few steps. The blood mage moved his hands, the blood flowing through the air. Not enough to significantly weaken the werewolf, but it was still enough.

Greyson stood, striking at Blake with the blood, hardening it and turning it back to liquid as he moved it through the room. Blake did his best to dodge and avoid the strikes, taking several more hits across his body, feeling his blood joining with that which was already out until he eventually collapsed to the ground.

"Jeez," Blake gasped. "You're definitely getting better."

"Maybe," Greyson said as he shot the blood into the sink, sending it straight down the drain. "But I can't put your blood back yet. Let me heal you up, then I need to head to Elaine's. Hopefully soon, I'll be able to restore your blood to you after I pull it out."

"Yeah," Blake grunted as Greyson began working his hands over the injuries, healing the werewolf. "Have you been practicing anyway?"

"Against a few pieces of scum," Greyson nodded. "Sadly, I still need to touch them to pull their blood out, and it's not all that easy to do sometimes."

Blake snorted.

"You'll get there," he assured the younger teen. "One day, you'll be able to snap your fingers and rip all the blood out of someone."

"Maybe," Greyson's expression darkened. "I don't want to be able to do that."

"You need to be able to defend yourself magically," Blake reminded him. "And blood magic is one of the most potent of the linked schools for that, if you're trained enough."

Greyson sighed, pinched one of the werewolf's injuries, then healed it and pulled on his hoodie and sneakers.

"I'll get something to eat on the way back," Greyson told him. "Let Cameron know, if he returns before I do."

Blake nodded and Greyson left, making his way down to the mage's shop where he took his lessons. When he entered, he was greeted with the sight of a man in his forties glaring at Suzanne, who looked terrified by him.

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Elaine herself stood to the side, and looked nervous as well, and her horrified gaze told Greyson that he shouldn't be there. The man's presence terrified Greyson as well. There was simply something about it that instilled a sense of otherworldly fear into him.

"I already told you," Suzanne gulped. "We don't know him."

"That's a lie," the man said. "And you know it, little mage. Tell me where the boy is. Now. Or your little guest over there will be-"

"You leave him alone," Elaine snapped. "We already told you that we don't know the son you're looking for."

"Yet he's been in your shop!" The man slammed his hand into the wooden counter, which split clean in half.

He whirled around and reached for Greyson, freezing before his hand grabbed the terrified boy. The man's golden gaze narrowed on him, and he sniffed the air. As he did, Greyson realized the man was unbelievably beautiful.

Beyond human levels. Whatever he was, the boy knew he wasn't human, something that powerful aura should have told him. It felt… godly.

"You smell like Refari," the man growled low in his throat.

"I-I don't know who that is," Greyson took a step back, right into a shelf. His breathing increased as he began to sweat hard. "I-I-"

"Why did Refari have a child with a mortal?" The man asked.

"I-I-"

"Leave him alone!" Elaine hollered. "He's just a kid!"

"Indeed, he is," the man turned and walked back over to the counter. "And if his father's Refari, I'm not touching him. Not without some serious backup. You two bitches, on the other hand, are fair game. Now. Tell me where the son of Ulrima is. Now."

"We don't know who he is!" Elaine protested. "Many people come into our shop! If Ulrima had a kid, it's possible he came in here and didn't tell us who he was!"

"Demigods have certain auras!" The man threw out a hand, and the two female mages found themselves slammed into the walls. "Much like the little half-angel over there, he wouldn't have been able to hide his presence from you!"

Half-angel? Greyson wondered. Wait… he knows what I am? He… who's Refari? My father?

"Now tell me where he is! What does he look like? If you don't start cooperating, bitches, I'm going to-"

"Do absolutely nothing," Greyson turned to face the speaker, who had an even more powerful presence than the one already there.

The newcomer had pink eyes, his hair golden at the roots, but pink halfway through and to the tips. He wore a pair of pink cargo shorts, crimson boots with pink laces that reached nearly to his knees, and a pink leather quiver strapped across his chest, a crimson bow with a pink string, a pink-fletched crimson arrow with a heart-shaped tip already knocked.

The thing that stunned Greyson the most about the man's appearance wasn't his odd attire or the bow in his hands, but the pair of pink wings stretching out of his back, folded close against his body in the tight space.

"Namil," the other man snarled. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in town," Namil said. "And sensed the presence of a god. Thought I'd come investigate."

"What is the Chief Cupid doing here?" The god asked, and Greyson began to slowly inch away from the two powerful beings.

He'd rather not be there at all, able to teleport like Eden was able to do, but he couldn't. So he prayed to whatever gods would listen to him that these two beings did not kill him as they destroyed the surrounding area.

"There's a restaurant down the road that makes the most amazing chocolate cake," Namil said. "I would have been here as soon as I sensed you, but dessert had just arrived. And then I sensed the nephilim's terror and thought I'd come step in. I wasn't expecting the son of Refari to be here."

"So he is Refari's son?" The god asked, suddenly unsure of himself.

"He is," Namil stated. "Now. Why are you seeking one of Ulrima's children?"

"Tell your master that this isn't over!" The god exclaimed before vanishing.

Namil let out a heavy sigh, then looked at Greyson.

"Hello, Greyson," he said. "I expect he'll be back with a few others soon, so be careful. Looks like I'll need to let your father know you're in danger. He can probably assign a few angels to watch over you."

"Isn't that-isn't that forbidden?" Greyson asked. "And… is Ulrima… is Ulrima a god of love?"

"Yes," Namil's lips twitched. "You guessed that based on my appearance?"

"I-I heard that the Cupids served one particular god of love. That-that's Ulrima?"

"It is," Namil nodded. "And it looks like I'll be in town more than for chocolate cake. Be safe, Greyson. And do remember – your mortal parents love you very much. Elaine, Suzanne – treat him well."

"Wait," Elaine called as Namil began to walk towards the door. "Why did he think a demigod was in here? We never sensed one, and the shop is enchanted to-"

"He's been bound," Namil said without turning around. "Ulrima bound his son's divinity to hide that he's a demigod. He doesn't possess his aura, nor will any readers detect it. For all intents and purposes, his kid is mortal. I'll need to have some Cupids investigate how his existence was discovered."

"Does the child know?" Elaine asked.

"He's aware he's not fully human," Namil answered. "He doesn't know what his inhuman parent is, though. Anyway, I do need to get going, I did sort of leave without paying, so I should go make up for that."

Namil then left, and Greyson let out a huge breath in relief once the dominating aura left. It made him feel things he didn't want to think about in the slightest. He looked at his mentors, who both looked shaken up.

"That… was a god?" He asked.

"Yes," Elaine frowned at him. "You seem to know more than we've taught you, Greyson, including that you are half-angel."

"Yeah," he averted his gaze. "I… don't know who Refari is, though."

"He's an angel," Elaine answered. "Though I've no idea as to who the god he serves is. You being half-angel explains your affinity for healing magics."

Greyson nodded. Healing was one thing all angels had in common, and was their primary power. The Cupids were one of the rare exceptions to angels being a mix of warriors and healers, and had powers beyond the norm of an angel's healing magics.

"Come," Elaine said. "Let's head upstairs and work on your water spell again, I didn't have anything injured before that god showed up."

"Why is he hunting a demigod?" Greyson asked as they went upstairs.

"Normally?" She asked. "To either kill or enslave. However, if Ulrima had a son… probably for blackmail. To use him to get what they want."

"Which is what?" Greyson asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I don't know who that particular god was. However, any god would know that Ulrima would do anything for his children, which is probably why that High God bound his son's divinity. Though it would cause great problems for the child until the divinity was released."

"Problems?" Greyson asked as he sat on the couch, kicking his feet up onto her table and crossing his ankles.

"Yes," Elaine answered as she went into her kitchen to retrieve the pitcher and plate. "The entities more commonly known as guardian angels don't protect demigods. Instead, it's their divinity that serves that function. Nearly all demigods who have their divinity bound that I know of die before they turn fifteen."

"So… Ulrima's son is probably under fifteen?"

"No," she smiled. "If Ulrima's his father, there are probably scores of angels and magicians keeping an eye on him, ensuring his safety. As I said – he's very protective of his children. It's very, very possible he's already fully-grown. Could even be ancient, compared to us."