Chapter 8
NATE
A face that I’d stared at for a thousand years, that had haunted me for a thousand more, looked back at me with one perfectly raised eyebrow. To some, that would sound romantic, but I meant haunted in a nightmare sense. We were a terrible match, bound only by blood and death, which was hardly a foundation for a good marriage.
They didn’t call her the Queen of Nightmares for no reason.
“Hello, Néit.”
She still sounded exactly the same, with the voice that made grown men piss themselves and pop an erection in equal measure, and the sarcasm that made me want to stab myself in the ear for at least seven centuries.
I turned to Clio. “The fuck were you thinking, Cliona?”
The bean-sidhe I’d formerly considered a friend gave me a stubborn look. “I was thinking that if you’re fighting monsters like Typhon, then you need some big guns. Someone who likes to fight and win. Someone whose battle cry can bring down a hundred men. Someone who gives a shit if you live or die.”
I gave her an incredulous look. “And your mind went to my ex-wife?”
Of all the foolhardy, stupid things to do…
“She’s a literal Goddess of winning damn battles, Néit. Pull your head out of your arse.” Clio was getting riled too, but I was seconds from pulling my ax. Wren must have caught my tension, because she put a gentle hand on my arm, a gesture that wasn’t missed by either of the women in front of me.
“I am also closely tied to the destinies of men, so who better to aid your lover than me?” Badb teased, and I narrowed my eyes at her. “Relax, Néit. I mean no harm to Wren Mahone or her children.”
“My children,” I snapped. “These children are mine, Badb, as if they were my own blood. I will slay you where you stand if you even contemplate harming them or their mother.”
She tilted her head at me, so like the crow she sometimes embodied. “The God of War, finally softened, and by a mortal? I never thought I would see the day.”
I curled my lip at her. “Exile will do that to a man. Gives you a different perspective on life.”
“You are no man, Néit, son of Indui, King of North Lands.”
I wanted to spit, I was so angry. Wounds I’d thought were long healed broke open at the title. Thoughts of my father weren’t pleasant. “You should leave. I neither need nor want your help, Badb.”
Clio was muttering under her breath about my stubborn ass, but I knew she wouldn’t push it.
Badb just shook her head. “Always so stubborn. It was what led to your demise, and apparently, you haven’t learned too much in your exile. Are you willing to sacrifice this woman—who even I can see you love—for your pride? Again?” Old pain and shame surged through me.
“Again?” Wren whispered.
Badb turned to Wren. “I wasn’t his only wife.”
With those words, I pulled my ax. Milo stepped in front of Wren, pulling her behind him and shifting into his Minotaur form, ready to have my back, even though he had no idea what was going on right now. Appreciation of my new family—for that was what Wren had created—flowed through me.
Wren was as stubborn as I was, however. “Nate, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t put that ax down, I’m going to jam it somewhere unpleasant. Move, Milo.” The fucking traitor stepped away, though he hovered less than a breath from her. “Should I call you Morrigan? Or Badb?” she asked, addressing a literal Goddess of Death like it was nothing. The brave, stupid, love of my eternal life.
“Call me Morrigan. Badb died the same time Néit did.” Her voice was almost vulnerable, and I glared at her. She’d always be Badb to me; the idea of calling her by her warrior title was insanity.
Wren nodded. “Do you intend to murder me or anyone in this house in their sleep—Nate included?”
Badb snorted a laugh. “If I wanted Néit dead, I could have done it a hundred times.” She rolled her eyes at me, like I was being ridiculous. “Cliona is correct; I am uniquely qualified to keep you alive, and I once upon a time cared if this big oaf lived or died. I only have to see how he looks at you to know you hold his life in your hands. He has my battle loyalty still, despite the centuries between us.” She smiled, and it was the same one that tended to lead soldiers between her thighs and then on to their death. Beguiling, in the worst way. “Not matrimonial loyalty, however. Many a man, woman, and monster have given me happiness since our marriage.” She winked in my direction, as if I gave a fuck.
Now it was Wren’s turn to eye this Goddess, like she could see inside her soul. And in a way, maybe she could. She could see the threads—could she tell if someone had good or ill intentions? She hadn’t suggested she could, but it might be worth experimenting.
“And are you trying to, uh, win your ex-husband back? Because I’m not going to lie, I’m attached to him and I won’t give him up without a fight.” Wren stuck out her chin, and Cliona coughed to cover a laugh. It was like a lamb before a lion, but she was so fucking brave. I could see respect flicker through Badb’s eyes, fleeting but there.
“No, Wren Mahone, I don’t want him back. I am here because I wish to be on the right side of the wheel as it turns. I am here because it is time there were new Fates, and if the Greek Pantheon think they can fuck with the will of fate, then that affronts me personally.” Yeah, I could see that. “But Cliona is also correct; I enjoy a good battle, and there hasn’t been a decent God battle in a thousand years. I don’t want to miss it.”
Silence fell over the group, and I realized there were more of the guys at my back. They would protect Wren with their lives, as would I.
Finally, Wren shrugged. “Fair enough. Come in, we have lemonade.”
Clio didn’t manage to hold back her laugh this time. “I love this one, Néit.” She stepped around me and followed Wren inside, but deliberately didn’t show me her back. Clever, that little banshee. She was on my shit list for this stunt.
Badb hesitated. “I mean it, Néit. On Fea’s eternal soul, I don’t have any ill intentions.”
Like a dagger to the heart, she made her point.
She sauntered past me, and I let her go. Because Badb might be a heinous bitch at times, but no one had loved Fea more than her, not even me.
I didn’t even notice Erus hanging back until he stepped up beside me, laying a hand on my shoulder as we followed. I turned to the Demigod, who I barely knew, but who’d taken a place on the short list of people I would care about if they died.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” I muttered back. I could have done without this little family reunion.
Erus raised an eyebrow at me. “She seems… intense.”
I laughed, because intense was an understatement. Badb took her position as the most fearsome creature on a battlefield very seriously. Her favor could win or lose wars. “Intense is putting it lightly.”
I watched her with Wren, looking for any sign of treachery or ill intent, despite what Badb had sworn. I knew words were easy. But her posture was relaxed, and she didn’t look like she was plotting. I remembered her plotting face well; it wasn’t something you could easily forget.
Fuck me. This was a disaster. One thing I knew, though, was that neither Badb nor Clio were staying within the walls of the compound. I’d talk to Demke or Teron about alternative accommodations, but no way was my ex-wife sleeping down the hall from the woman I loved.
Wren and Milo led everyone out to the grape trellis, and I wasn’t surprised to see Demke there, reclining like he didn’t have a care in the world, not even the sudden appearance of another Mythic who rivaled him in power. I was also unsurprised to see the Gryphon lying beside him, almost like a pet. If a pet could pop your head from your neck in an instant.
It was a subtle show of force.
Cliona squealed as a whole bunch of the dogs yawned and stretched, some coming over warily to check out the newcomers. “Oh my goddess, puppies!” No one liked a squealing banshee, but she gushed as she fell to her knees and was ferociously licked by a bunch of dogs, who probably had terrible breath and more than a few parasites.
Wren chuckled, and as Cy sidled up to her in his dog form, she buried her fingers in his soft coat. She definitely forgot he was a man at times, and he took full advantage of that fact. But the adoring way he looked up at her had me holding my tongue and leaving my ax by my side.
While I’d been distracted by the spectacle the pack were making, Badb and Demke had been having a stare-off. Milo had an arm wrapped around Wren’s waist, like he was ready to throw himself between her and dueling Gods at any moment. Wren was smart enough to recognize a volatile situation when she saw one, so she didn’t seem to protest being shielded.
Finally, whatever pecking-order bullshit was over, and Badb inclined her head. “I am the Morrigan. I have come to pledge my allegiance to the Mother of Fate.”
Wren’s head snapped to me. Mother of Fate? she mouthed silently, and I shrugged.
Demke looked past Badb to me, and it was probably the first time in centuries that she’d been so easily dismissed. “Is her word good?”
Well, fuck. The Badb I’d known would have murdered him where he stood for insinuating her word meant nothing. Despite the faint pulse of her jaw, she didn’t seem angry at Demke’s words. Everyone was looking at me now, and I knew that Demke was leaving it in my hands.
Did I trust Badb’s word? She’d been known to lie, but I didn’t think she was at this moment. Maybe that was naive of me, but still, I nodded.
Clio let out a sigh of relief, and I shot her a pissed expression. Dropping her gaze, she went back to stroking one of the dogs that had hair like a boar-bristle brush.
Erus appeared with glasses and a huge pitcher of iced lemonade. And a bottle of rakí . I didn’t know where their supply was from, but the clear alcohol seemed to be more plentiful than water in this town. “Well, if that’s sorted, please sit. Have a drink.”
Clio came over to sit at the table, and soon enough, Badb sat beside her. I sat as far away as possible, while Milo led Wren to sit beside me. I wrapped an arm around her, an obvious show of where my loyalties lay—not with my ex-wife.
Throwing me slightly guilt-ridden looks, Clio smiled at Wren. “You’re looking radiant. Huge, but radiant.”
I rolled my eyes at my old friend. “You can’t tell a pregnant woman that she looks huge, Cliona, for fuck’s sake.”
Wren, proving once again why I loved her, just laughed. “I think it’s safe to call someone huge if they can't sit up in bed without the help of at least two mystical creatures.” She shook her head. “I can’t wait until they’re here, but at the same time, I’m terrified of them being out in the world. It’s like a sword of Damocles hanging over my head.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Milo run his fingers up and down her spine soothingly. I hadn’t ever imagined that I could be happy sharing her, but I was beginning to realize that I was.
Nodding solemnly, Clio’s face folded into one I knew well. Her business face. I might know her as my fun, lighthearted friend, but it didn’t negate the fact she was the representative and key negotiator of our Pantheon in the States. “You aren’t wrong. It’s why I’m here. And it’s why I brought Morrigan.” She sucked in a deep breath. “There’s a war brewing, and people are gathering armies. Some will stand behind the new Fates, and some will try to maintain the status quo. It’s spread beyond the Greek Mythics now. You should expect more people like us to arrive soon. The time to hide is almost over.”
Ice ran through my veins at her words. It might not be the cry of the bean-sidhe, but for our little group, it may as well be.