Chapter Forty-Three
Back at Pride Palace, I did one last thing before I joined my family upstairs—I reset the tracing chant.
If there's one thing I've learned during my years fighting the Gods, it's to protect yourself as much as possible.
I may have gone through a type of battle with those gods, but I didn't trust them.
A new tracing chant would ensure that they didn't sneak back in when I was sleeping.
Speaking of which, I headed upstairs to find my children abed, their fathers tucking them in.
I went to their rooms to kiss my babies goodnight, starting with the youngest and working my way up to the oldest. By the time I made it back down to my bed, I was warm with motherly love.
To top it off, Nick—my immortal gray tabby cat—was snuggled up on the couch.
I sat beside him and took some time to love on him.
Nick loved to prowl the castle, and I often found him curled up in some random room.
He had to make sure the whole place smelled like him, what with all these other cats in residence.
But he came to see me when he was hungry or wanted attention.
He'd gotten a lot of attention this past year, but I'd been busy dealing with the god machine lately and needed to catch up on my Nick time.
“Hey, little boy.” I stroked his soft head. “I've missed you.”
With a soft mewl, he crawled onto my lap and settled in.
It had only been him and me once. That felt like centuries ago.
I'd gotten married and had children since then.
He got a lot of attention from my kids, but Nick was my first baby, and he loved me the most. I had to let him know I loved him too.
I petted Nick while my husbands got ready for bed.
A shower would be good, but kitty magic paralyzed me.
So, I turned on the TV and searched for something to help me unwind.
I settled on Shrinking, a hilarious show that also made me cry.
It was hard to watch Harrison Ford play a man with Parkinson's.
My grandfather had the disease, and it's awful.
But the worst was seeing my childhood obsession become a grandfather himself.
Yes, it was natural for most people to grow old, but for me, it was a reminder that while my human loved ones aged, I did not.
Time felt like nothing to me these days.
Not until I see someone like Harrison Ford shuffling about a living room instead of swinging across pits of snakes.
“I need to watch Indiana Jones,” I murmured. “Or maybe Star Wars.” I looked down at Nick. “What do you think? Han Solo or Indiana? They both have catchy theme songs.”
I started humming the Indiana Jones theme music—it was also my theme music.
You know, the song that plays in your mind when you're doing housework or your nails?
Your mind just wanders and fills with music.
Think about it. I'll bet a song comes to mind.
That's your theme song. And yes, I'd sweep the floor or make a bed while it played in my head.
It always made me feel as if I were on an adventure.
“I've got enough adventure. Maybe I should find a new theme song. Something by Enya.”
Nick mewled disapprovingly.
“Yeah, you're right. Indiana Jones is awesome.” I found Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom in our digital library—thank you again, Torr—and clicked play.
I had just gotten to the part where Indie was in the back of a car with that funny kid driving when my husbands joined me. They plopped onto the floor around me and on the couch beside me, surrounding me with love. I smiled and settled in with them. Even Nick was purring.
You may think that with seven husbands, my life is full of sex.
And you'd be right. I've complained about it.
Because as much as I enjoyed sex with my handsome, divine men, it was moments like this one that I treasured the most—hanging out with them and watching TV.
Or eating dinner with our kids. Or sitting on the veranda, drinking coffee in the morning.
Those were the moments that made immortality enjoyable.
They made life worthwhile. The feel of a purring cat on my lap, a man leaning onto me to pet it while more men sprawled around me, was true paradise.
“Da, da, da, daaaaa. Da, da, da. Da, da, da daaaaaaaaaa, da, da, da, da, da!” Viper sang the instrumental music, making me grin. He got it.
“I love that kid,” Trevor said after the underage driver chided the blond woman, telling her to address Indiana as Doctor Jones!
“He's grown up with a family now,” I said. “Just won an Academy Award.”
“What?!” Trevor scowled at me. “No way.”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “You should see Harrison Ford.”
“No! No, no, no, no! Do not tell me. Harrison Ford will forever be a young Han Solo.”
“Dude, haven't you seen the latest Star Wars movies?” Viper asked.
“I said a young Han Solo.”
“But he was pretty good—”
Trevor pointed at him. “I said, good day!”
“Yeah, all right, Fez.” Viper rolled his eyes while the rest of us laughed.
Yes, this was my paradise. My reward. And I had it on good authority that I deserved it.