Chapter 7
7
Ceridwen’s Home, Tír na nóg
Ceridwen stared at the foppish half-Fae in her doorway. “I thought I told you never to come here again.”
“My darling! I thought you were being flippant, as usual. I simply needed to speak with you.” Bres gallantly gestured, bending at the waist and sweeping his arm forward in an old-world style bow. He slyly glanced up, as if to see if his entrance affected her. It didn’t.
As conceited as he was, he would know the image he presented without needing a mirror. His pale violet eyes sparkled as he tossed his long blonde hair behind him and straightened.
As usual, he had dressed for the occasion, his slim build accentuated by tight, low-slung jeans and a silky shirt, which emphasized his slightly muscular chest and tapered waist. He was still repugnant.
Ceridwen gave him a droll glare, unimpressed as usual. “What is it this time?”
“What do you mean?” He walked over to her, casually looking around the room, knowing her ornately decorated and very gothic style didn’t suit him. But she enjoyed her black wrought iron furniture with rich red cushions in the middle of the room. On the sofa and two nearby chairs, various-sized pillows in shades of blue lay scattered, the only other color she enjoyed.
With a glance toward the gargoyles perched in each corner of the rafters, she bit back a smile, knowing he hated them.
He shivered and scowled, turning his back on them and refocusing all his energy on her. She was the one Celtic goddess he would never impress and would never learn, either. “Can’t I visit an old friend?”
Standing in the center of the room, Ceridwen pursed her lips and arched a perfect blond eyebrow. “I know you better than that, Bres. What do you want? You always have an ulterior motive.”
“Love what you’ve done with the place Ceri—positively deathlike.” Bres shrugged slightly. “Personally, I like a little more color. Yellow, maybe even some shades of green.”
“Well, you are from above. All those bright colors make me feel like I’m on a carousel.” She gestured with a flip of her wrist to the surrounding space. “This is calming to me. You, I don’t care about.”
“It’s definitely something,” he mumbled. He threw himself into the nearest chair and stretched out his long legs, letting his arms dangle over the flimsy armrests. Bres’s gaze never left her, no matter where she moved in the room. She finally gave up and stood in front of the fireplace, hoping she looked as normal as she had the last time he had seen her. Too many changes had happened since then and not in a good way.
Since being turned, her skin was the color of alabaster and flawless. She always liked her prominent cheekbones and pert little nose, but, to her, her lips were too full and pouty. She also missed smiling, but lately, after the attack, smiling was the last thing she wanted to do.
Her best friend, Cernunnos, always commented on the twinkle in her sultry, golden cat eyes, which were even more pronounced when she outlined her eyes with black eyeliner like an Egyptian goddess.
She couldn’t help but tap into his thoughts of running his fingers through her silky blond hair, taking every pin from the many braids twisted together in an ornate knot. She wanted to throw up. He had a goal, though, and seducing her wasn’t it, which intrigued her. What was he up to?
Ceridwen wondered if Bres had any idea just how repulsive he was. She did not trust him at all. His disgusting thoughts were dissecting her like a lab animal, and it made her feel dirty. She needed a shower. It was interesting that even though he was only half-Fae, he could not read minds like most other gods. It must be because his father was Fomorian. She knew other half-Fae who could read minds without a bit of trouble.
She thought back to his birth and how proud his father was. Elatha was a great leader and a full-blood Fomorian. His mother, ériu, was Tuatha Dé and the most giving, peaceful woman she had ever known.
Ceridwen looked at Bres with disgust. “You look like a giant sloth, all draped everywhere. I know for a fact your family has impeccable manners. Where are yours?”
He raised his fair head slowly from the back of the chair. Under heavy-lidded eyes, he stared at her a moment before responding. “Well, love, that’s just it. I don’t care. What you see is what you get. More or less, anyway.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Now, if I were to become a more important aspect of your life, then...”
Ceri gave him a never-in-a-million-years look and shook her head. What will he think of next? No, she wouldn’t even go there. She had been through this before with him and did not want to do it again. After all, losing a kingship, falling out of favor with his family, and being abandoned by all his friends wasn’t something to take lightly. Evidently, he failed to learn the lesson.
Looking at his ethereal face, knowing his beauty was only skin deep, she knew better than ever to trust him. He was always scheming something. Yet , it might be better to keep him close rather than not knowing what he was up to . She shivered inwardly, foreseeing what she was in for. The picture of a slimy sea snake popped into her head, and she quickly realized the image had come from someone else.
She pressed her lips together as her newest visitor sent her more pictures of repulsive, slithery things. She wondered how she rated two visitors on the same day but didn’t mind that much. Looking around her home, she realized it had become somewhat boring. Finally, she couldn’t take any more of the nonsensical pictures and let out a rich and melodic laugh.
Bres looked at her in surprise and stopped talking, his face taking on an expectant, almost hopeful look. “Well, Ceri my love, I’m so glad you see it my way.” He rose with a flair, kissed her hand, and then turned to leave. “I will return tomorrow night to discuss our plans, say, over dinner?” He bowed slightly and then apparated back to wherever he had come from.
Ceridwen sat in stunned silence, wondering what he was talking about. Whose plans? “What are you talking about?” she hollered, but the dratted half-Fae was gone. Turning, another gorgeous man stood in the doorway behind her.
Cernunnos’s calm demeanor didn’t show a glimpse of even the slightest agitation. He slowly walked over to the chair that had just been occupied. Looking at it rather disdainfully, he gingerly sat, the antique-framed chair looking as if it barely withstood the weight.
“Do you have to sit in that chair? I had the sofa made just for you. You are going to break it, and it happens to be one of my favorites. It is irreplaceable.” Ceri complained halfheartedly, knowing it wouldn’t make any difference. They had already had this argument many times before.
“Yes, yes, I know. This time is different. I couldn’t not sit in it. It needed to be fumigated. It was a little snakey.” Cernunnos chuckled.
She threw a pillow at him, hitting his arrogant face and started laughing all over again. “What did you get me into? That little monster said, ‘Our plans.’ What would those happen to be? I was a little preoccupied at the time.”
“That’s easy, my dear. I was actually listening to the poor sop while you were giggling your head off, not paying attention.”
She narrowed her gaze. “I don’t giggle, so I’m going to ignore that. Just tell me what I supposedly agreed to?”
“You didn’t agree to anything.” Her scowl darkened. “Don’t get your knickers in a bunch. He was getting discouraged by your lack of interest, so he muttered, ‘Show some feelings for a change, why don’t you—anything would be better than your constant scowl. But, if you agree, even a laugh would be a start.’ That’s when you, sweetie, did just that.”
Ceridwen groaned and rolled her eyes, mumbling, “Merde. Merde. Merde. I know what his wishes are, and I won’t help him. It would be the downfall of both the Courts. Samhain is too close for this, and the Unseelie Court is too powerful this time of year. They thrive on power, but even they know what would happen if something changed the balance between the courts.
“Doesn’t bode well.” He sighed. “And my day started so positive, too.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, throwing a chocolate cookie at his thick chest, her eyes drawn to the beautiful gold torque he always wore around his neck. Intricate engravings of tiny stags encircled the ends, which were beautifully laid with ornate twists of thick, gold ropes.
“Yum! Throw more my way,” he said, catching the cookie and eating it in two quick bites. He looked at her quizzically before asking, “Since when did you start eating cookies?”
“Since they are chocolate. A woman always has chocolate around. I thought you knew everything about the opposite sex?”
“Well, that tidbit escaped my attention. I didn’t realize you loved chocolate that much.”
“Everyone has their weaknesses. Chocolate is the one thing I could never give up. Ever.” Ceri whispered.
“That’s okay, choux. You won’t have to. One small taste a day won’t hurt.” Cern smiled, his hunter-green eyes twinkling, then darkened slightly. “Will it.”
“Not a small taste. I don’t eat it every day though, maybe once every week or two.”
“It’s been hard, hasn’t it? The change. I would have been here for you if you had just asked.” He bowed his shaggy head while threading his fingers through the light brown curls, making them look wilder than normal. “I searched for Lilith after you were converted, but she escaped back to the Unseelie Court and hasn’t left since.
Ceri smiled, her heart heavy at how her life had changed. “Thank you for having my back. I will say being a vampire isn’t as bad as it sounds. Just a few lifestyle changes.” She walked over to him and laid her hand over his, stilling his nervous fingers. She held them still a moment before lifting his hand to her lips, kissing the back of his hand and wondering at his strength. His sweet power radiated from him and seemed to fill her up.
“How are you coping?” He shook his head. “I admire you. I don’t know if I could deal with it as well as you have.”
She caught glimpses of his thoughts, the sorrow and pain at what she had endured. He was beating himself up for making her go through it alone. Tucking her curled finger under his chin, she gently raised his head. She leaned forward and lightly pressed her lips against his. “You know it was best done alone. Besides,” she glanced up at the gargoyles. “I had my friends. If I needed help, they would have found you.”
She let go of his hands and began pulling his unruly curls into a loose ponytail, which she tied with a beautiful, black-tooled leather strip that twisted tight with a thin piece of interwoven silver. It was the only thing they had ever found to keep his hair tied but wouldn’t get all tangled in the curls.
“Thanks. I hate my hair. One of these days, I’m going to just show up completely bald,” he grumped.
“Don’t you dare! I love your hair. It’s the only good thing about you.” she said innocently, waiting for his response, which was usually quick.
“That’s it! None of your cheek after trying to be nice,” he yelled and grabbed her before she could get away, throwing her across his lap while mercilessly tickling her. She knew hearing her laugh was what he needed. He had once told her it was like a wind chime to his ears and lightened his heart.
She couldn’t imagine not having him in her life. They were such an unlikely match for friends, yet they fit perfectly—night-to-day, so to speak. Now, though, they would have to get out of another mess. After a few more minutes of fun, he let her go so she could sit cross-legged on the floor and plastered her serious expression on her face.
“We need a plan. Maybe two, knowing Bres.” Ceri frowned. “Instinct tells me it’s not a coincidence that he decided to show up here right before Samhain. Not to mention the mess Fer-Diorich has made of things.” She put her elbows down on her knees and placed her head in her hands. Suddenly, she started hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Think, Ceri, think!”
Cern watched her antics, an amused expression on his handsome face. “What’s the problem? I thought you were the goddess of inspiration. Can’t even think of a decent plan—what kind of goddess are you?” he teased.
“Oh, shut up, will you! I’m trying to formulate a battle plan, if you don’t mind.” Ceri glared at him, daring him to say something.
Cern’s lips formed a tight line as he tried to hide his smile and failed. “I love aggravating you.”
She stared back, watching the navy-blue gargoyle fly down from the ceiling behind him and lob a good-sized rock at the side of Cern’s head, hitting him just above his ear.
“Ow! You wretched little creatures.” He glared at the snickering gargoyle still floating behind him and shook his fist, ignoring their scratchy laughter. “I won’t forget this, Razz. You little devil, that hurt.” He gingerly touched the painful bump already forming and glanced at Ceri with his head cocked to one side. “You don’t play fair.”
“Nope.” She smiled. “You aren’t easy to best, so all’s fair in love and war. And, my friend, when it comes to besting you, it’s an all-out war.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, smiling mischievously.
Cern scanned the top of the room, taking in the gargoyles behind Ceri. “Traitors,” he muttered. Once more, their dark laughter whispered around the room as their large eyes glinted red.
“Now help me,” she begged. “Our plan must be perfection with a backup that’s just as solid. We know Bres needs me. He believes I crossed over to the Unseelie Court when Lilith cursed me, but the Seelie Court never banished me. They felt like I had been punished enough.” She frowned, staring off into the shadowed corners of the room, lost in thought. “Besides, no one wants to be in charge of the cauldron.”
“Do I detect a hint of bitterness, my love?”
“Damn right, you do. They treat me as if I have the plague. But the minute someone needs divine inspiration or knowledge of the future, I can do no wrong and am their best friend. If I could still throw up, I would.” Ceri threw herself backward onto the floor, arms outstretched in disgust. “I can’t even use the despicable contraption to divine my own future. Why? Why should I tell everyone else what their life will entail when mine is a complete unknown?”
“I hate to say this, but you’re stuck. And, as far as the others go, ignore them for a while. As I’ve said many times, if you don’t answer their every whim, they will learn to appreciate you and your gifts.” His gaze never wavered as he stared at her, making her uncomfortable. Cernunnos never missed anything when it came to her. “We can sit here for hours, trying to figure out what Bres is up to, but, in my opinion, we are just going to have to wait for him to make the first move.”
Ceri rolled over onto her side and propped her head on her hand, placing a small silky midnight-blue colored pillow under her shoulder for support. “You mean like a game of chess?”
“Exactly. Strategic countermoves. It would be a waste of time and energy for us to sit and plan anything before we even had a remote idea of his plans. If he even knows, and knowing Bres, he doesn’t. He is a god of opportunity.”
She could not fault Cern’s logic, not to mention the nature god was usually right. She flipped a stray strand of hair out of her face and nodded in agreement, but before Cern responded, a hard knock sounded on her door.
Glancing at her guest, she shrugged. “No one ever comes to visit me, and in one day, three people?”
“I don’t sense anyone malicious. Extremely powerful, yes, but not evil. Answer your door, my dear. Let’s see who’s calling on you now.”
She slowly walked to her door and laid her hand on the handle. Then, as if garnering her strength, she jerked it open. Standing in front of her were the last two people she had ever expected to see.
“Morrigan, Arawn, what brings you to my home?” She stared at them with a confused frown.
Morrigan smiled. “I know we are unexpected , but we seek your help. Yours and,” she glanced at Cern, who had moved to stand right behind her. “Cernunnos.” She smiled. “It has been a long time, my friend.”
Cern laid his hands on Ceridwen’s shoulders and felt him nod. “Yes, it has. Neither of you makes social calls, so why are you here?”
Arawn tilted his head in acknowledgment and glanced at Morrigan before turning back to them. “It is as Morrigan said. We need your help—both of you. May we come in? What we must discuss with you cannot be overheard, and I sense the presence of someone untrustworthy nearby.”
Ceri glanced at Cern and mouthed Bres before pushing back against him to let the two gods in. Closing the door behind them, she leaned closer and whispered, “Ward my home. I do not want anyone hearing what we speak about.”
“It is done,” he said, moving her back to the sofa and sitting beside her. The other two gods sat in the chairs.
Morrigan leaned forward, resting her elbows on her legs, and sighed. “I am sorry it has taken me so long to visit after your illness, Ceri. How are you doing?”
“Thank you. I am healed and healthy…mostly.” Ceri frowned at the war goddess. “It has been a few centuries since we saw each other, Morrigan. Why have you come to see me now?”
The beautiful goddess stared down at her clasped hands. “Thanks to Fer-Diorich, my family is in turmoil. His curse killed my daughters, and he is now trying to kill my twin granddaughters. I spend all my waking moments trying to keep them both alive, which has been nearly impossible. They are too much like me and tend to dive into the thick of things without considering their own safety.”
Ceri smiled. “I would expect nothing less of your offspring. They have a fearsome reputation to measure up to. I am sorry about your daughters. I never had the chance to meet the youngest. I’ve heard about the curse but know little about it.”
“In a nutshell, Fer-Diorich became obsessed with a human, but when she didn’t return his favor, he cursed her into the body of a deer. One day, I discovered her plight and felt sorry for her, so I showed her how to overcome the enchantment and find her happily ever after. That damned Fae was beyond pissed but couldn’t reach her as long as she stayed within her husband’s castle.”
She raised her sapphire gaze to Ceri’s. “Fer-Diorich tricked her into leaving the castle, and she turned back into the deer. She was pregnant at the time and gave birth to a young boy. I helped her raise him, but when he turned seven, she simply couldn’t go on. After making me promise to take him to his father’s, she passed. For the help I gave her, Fer-Diorich cursed all female descendants I may have. Please help us stop his plan to combine the courts.”
Ceri’s eyes widened, and she reached over and gripped Cernunnos’s hand. “We thought he was simply trying to escape the Unseelie Court, not combine them. That would be the end of all realms!”
“That is so,” Arawn’s rich voice filled the room. “There is more you need to hear. Somehow, he has convinced a powerful entity to steal the dead from the death realms, creating a vacuum. Currently, Otherworld has been drained, as have Helheimr and Hades’ underworld. A few untouched places within each realm have not been touched as of yet, but too many more, and our world will cease to exist.”
“Damn, Arawn, you don’t mince words, do you,” Cern muttered. “Why hasn’t Nuada called a war tribunal or, at the very least, a council of elders to discuss who may be doing this?”
Morrigan grimaced. “We asked him not to.” She held up her hand. “Before you chastise me, there are others at risk. My granddaughter, Gwyn, is pregnant with twins.”
Cern groaned. “Has your family ever practiced abstinence or birth control, Morrigan? Handing the Dark Fae two sets of twins would be like King Oberon opening the palace door for him and handing him his throne. His power would be unstoppable.”
The raven-haired goddess nodded, her expressive blue eyes filled with worry. “I know,” she whispered.
Ceri’s stomach cramped, and she leaned forward and pressed her fist against her stomach, hoping for a bit of relief. She also did not like how morose Morrigan was. “Do you need me to look into the cauldron? My vision may help give us a clue as to his exact plan or aid in stopping him.”
Cern held up his hand. “Before you answer that, you should also know Bres was here earlier. We think he plans on helping the Fae somehow—maybe even helping him to escape. Before you arrived, I was about to suggest we wait until tomorrow night when he’s supposed to return to talk to Ceridwen. For some asinine reason, he thinks she can help him. After hearing what he says, we can plan accordingly.”
Morrigan and Arawn nodded and stood, Cern and Cari rising with them. “We will return tomorrow at your summoning,” Morrigan agreed. Instead of following Arawn to the door, she wrapped her arms around Ceridwen. “I understand blood lust, my friend,” she whispered in her ear. “Should you ever have need, I will help.” She leaned back and placed her hand on Ceri’s cheek, then quickly turned and followed Arawn through the front door, closing it behind them with a soft snick .
Ceri looked at Cern, her eyes widening in confusion. Then the hunger hit. Hard. She heard his heartbeat in her ears, softly drawing her as it pushed his life-giving fluid through the network of veins and arteries in his large, masculine body. She clamped her jaws together, the pain giving her a momentary reprieve. Shaking her head, she fought the urge to drain him dry and tried to refocus but failed.
Hurrying into the large brickwork kitchen, she pulled out a dark bottle from the refrigerator. Pouring the red liquid into her favorite pewter goblet, she laid her hand over the top and magically warmed the blood.
“Ceri?” Cern asked, a concerned frown marring his handsome face.
Standing as still as she could, the call of his blood pulsing through his body pulled on her senses, and she took a step toward him.
No mistress. You must fight the bloodlust. We are all here for you. Draw on our strength to get you through this. You mustn’t wait this long between meals. It is too hard on you. Use our strength and drink from the goblet.
The moment Tragar’s whispery voice filled her mind, her craving lessened. Of all her gargoyle watchers, Tragar was her favorite and most loyal. She closed her mind to everything but him, almost drowning in the strength and comfort he and the other gargoyles sent her, helping to overcome the bloodlust.
In vampire years, she was young, a fledgling still learning to deal with her hunger for blood. Normally, she controlled her hunger well if she drank once a day. Longer than that, and it became more difficult to control. She refused to take from humans and had resorted to using the overstocked blood in various blood banks throughout the Earthen realm.
With the gargoyles’ help, she poured another serving of blood into the goblet as Cern loomed over her shoulder, his gaze resting on the glistening, red liquid. Her fingers tightened around the pewter stem. “Would you like a drink?” She heated the blood and took several large gulps of the thick liquid.
He grimaced and pulled back. “As long as it’s not what you’re drinking.”
She half smiled at him. “Chicken,” she quietly taunted before turning back to the frig.
Without missing a beat, he responded as smoothly as a sword master dancing a duel. “Yep, and damned proud of it, too,” he said. Pointing to the dozen or so bottles of blood in the frig, he grimaced. “Especially where that’s concerned.”
She pulled out a bottle of red wine from the wine rack hanging above the frig. Pouring it into a matching goblet, she handed it to Cern. Reaching for the drink, he stared at the blood-red liquid, then held it up in the air in front of her. “I propose a toast. To us. Best friends who, throughout time, will be there for one another no matter the circumstances, whether it is danger or the end of time. To you, I pledge my life, my loyalty, and my love.” With that, he lifted his cup and drank the wine, its rich flavor swirling over his tongue. “Mmm. This is good. What label is it?”
Ceridwen didn’t answer. She stared at him, trying to keep her shock from showing. She gripped the stem of her goblet, her mind unable to accept his softly spoken words. She closed her eyes, but tears slowly tracked down her cheeks.
She heard the clink when Cern put down his goblet, his heat engulfing her as he moved to stand in front of her. Gently taking the cup from her clenched fingers, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the sofa, settling her on his lap. With his strength surrounding her, she cried in earnest for all she had lost and the loneliness of her life.
“Ceri, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Knowing he was not a patient man, after about twenty minutes of feeling sorry for herself, she forced her heartbeat to ease and her breathing to slow as she relaxed.
When she shivered, a fire roared to life in the stone fireplace, crackling cheerfully in the quiet room. With the comfortable silence wrapping them like a blanket and her rioting emotions in check, her thoughts turned to the upcoming battle at Samhain. How were they going to keep Fer-Diorich inside his Unseelie prison?