Goddess Rising, page 16
Taking Dani’s empty cup, I rose to my feet and washed both cups, placing them in the drying rack while I thought through my answer. “Well, then, that’s where we go. She can’t hide forever, and if she planned this like I think she did, she wants us involved. Why else create such a mating bond?”
“I agree,” Dani said, touching my shoulder and sifting us away from the wonderfully peaceful South Carolina night.
Sifting with Dani is like traveling through the stars as an atom. It’s seamless, swift, and beautiful. There’s no sense that you’ve moved, it simply feels like you’ve become one with your surroundings. Then you blink, and you’re someplace else. There’s no displacement. Your stomach does not drop, nor does any time pass. Sifting with Dani is like coming into existence somewhere else. Instantly.
The rich scent of damp loam hit my hindbrain before I could open my eyes. Crickets and night birds sang across the pine needle-strewn forest floor. The moon hadn’t moved in the sky, and its pale light was blocked from sight by the dense canopy of trees. I took a deep breath, holding it momentarily before releasing it into the verdant-black night. I chuckled at my thoughts, full of purple prose and flourishes that were not the norm for me.
“It’s a beautiful place for a showdown with a Demi-Goddess,” Dani baited, not bothering to search her surroundings. “If I unmake her here, at least she will have known peace.”
“I did not intend to incite a war with our Great Mother.” The voice at our backs was deep, smooth, and placating in a way that wasn’t condescending.
“Didn’t you?” Dani asked as we turned as one to face the Luna Goddess.
“I did not.” The woman before us held her palms out before dropping her arms at her sides.
“Then why did you trap my daughter in a mating with a shifter when these things are not done,” I asked, dropping my shields and letting my power roam through the woods. It returned, bringing information on everything living for miles around, including the thing before me.
Chestnut-blond hair hung in dreads down her back. Bare tattooed arms the color of Birch bark hung loose at her sides. She wore complicated leather straps that banded around her chest, down her waist and hips. Wolf’s fur boots came to her knees, and a long bow was slung across her back. Her eye makeup was smudged and smokey, giving her a feral appearance, but a sharp intelligence glinted in brown eyes, looking more canine than humanoid.
“Your child is safe, Godling. A show of power is unnecessary,” she said, nodding my way.
“It’s very necessary. My child is mine. You should have kept your paws off her,” I growled, stepping forward. I wanted to take her head off because maybe that would end whatever bullshit she started, and I was just that pissed off.
Dani moved between us, saying nothing at first.
The Luna bowed her head in deference, pausing a beat before saying. “I did not intend to create a war, only to broker a peace.”
“Explain,” Dani said, moving to stand beside me. Arms crossed and angry. “Explain why you would use my granddaughter, the daughter of the American Fae Queen, The Goddess Rising, and the daughter of the King of Vampires, the King of the American Fae. What would possess you to do such a thing? What would drive you to do this without consultation with beings who could end you and your people with a thought? Hmmm?” she finished, raising one eyebrow. Her hair floated about her, and I knew she was angrier than she let on.
“Desperation, Great Mother.”
Through the paths between trees, the howls of wolves filtered, some near, some far, but all growing closer.
“Your wolves will stand down,” Dani stated, her words the only threat needed.
The Luna raised her hand, and approaching paws stopped, whines echoing instead of howls as the shadowed moon inched lower. Her dark eyes turned white as her ears lengthened and canines grew. “My people are fading. Too long isolated, our customs have created a disconnect to their inner animals. Each generation loses something as family trees grow closer together. The sun cannot shine, and the trees weaken. Shifter magic wanes as other magic vines and strengthens. We have Fae roots, but they are malnourished and dry, cut off from the land that sprouted shifters everywhere. We need to reestablish them. We need to rebuild weakened foundations, so all our houses stand stronger.
“War comes. Anger, jealousy, and discontent strengthen as their animals weaken. Their ties to The Great Mother dissolve until true shifters are no more. The Changing Bite no longer works, and the genetic shoots at the heart of all things wither to extinction across all shifter species.
“They come from you, My Goddess. As do I. As do we all. We are your children, and we need help.”
“You’ve kept your own counsel when you should have approached me,” Dani interrupted, a twinge of irritation in her voice. “You isolated yourselves. I warned against this long, long ago. You, in your hubris, have forsaken me.”
“And I was wrong. Now, my people suffer. Aurora is Fae,” she started.
“She is also half human,” I growled, narrowing my eyes and letting my own beast show. “The sob story is a good one, and I’d never want Noah or my shifter friends to suffer, but The Luna’s words are a prediction and nothing more. They aren’t worth losing a child for. Not to me,” I said to Dani, ignoring the indignant shifter Goddess to focus on my mother-in-law.
“Aurora is more than she appears, more than genetics would imply, as is her birth mother, and as are you, Fae Queen. Remember that. Her magic will come, and it will be a terrible beauty. Forgive me for wanting her for Jacob, who will one day be King.
“Their path is not an easy one, but it leads to the betterment of all shifter species, supernaturals, and humans as well. They are destined, as are you. Think about it, My Goddess,” she said, her eyes changing to their naturally dark color and swinging to Dani.
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Dani answered. “There’s more you’re not saying.”
“Queen of the Universe, Queen of the Shifters, Queen of Talamh na Sithe. All the Hennessey Queens will rule. Queen of the Universe, Queen of the Shifters, Queen of Talamh na Sithe. The Queens will rule,” she chanted the words again before dissipating in a burst of moonlight and flowing like bright, molten rivers into the trees, leaving Dani and me with nothing but stunned silence. Thousands of reflective eyes stared at us, blinking, not approaching. Then they were gone.
Yet another long sigh escaped my lungs, and my shoulders sagged where I stood. “That accomplished nothing.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It can’t be changed without consequences I’m unwilling to face. She’s right in some ways and wrong in others. She was warned. But what is a God without hubris? What is a Goddess without narcissism?” And now it was Dani’s turn to sigh. “I should’ve seen this. I’ve said it before, and I’ll warn you again. Not even I can see every twist and turn a path takes. Our people have free will, and as I’ve maintained somewhat of a life myself, so will you. You will miss things. Sometimes they will be good and sometimes horrible, but while we may be omnipotent, we are not omniscient.” She turned away, and I knew she was thinking about losing her son, more specifically, how she lost her son who was destined to be Fae King but is now King of the Vampires and so much more.
I wondered which she preferred.
But that was life, wasn’t it? Just because you could change a thing doesn’t mean you should.
She was also referring to a time far, far in the future when she believed I’d take her place, but there is no retirement from being a Goddess. No 401K, golden parachute, or the like.
Dani wove a wrought iron bench from nowhere or everywhere, sitting with a thump. Someday there would be a plaque next to the thing that would say something like “Conversation of the Goddesses” or Goddesses were here: fate be damned” or some such. Now, it was just Dani and I in the woods with a thousand eyes. I thumped next to her.
“I will watch her more closely. Luna be damned, I will make sure she is safe,” she said as I settled my hands into my lap. She was shook, as the kids would say. Her speech had reverted to a formality that was not normal for the Mother Goddess.
“We both will. We all will. Coi and Grania, Paul and Noah, fuck him. Noah will help, too, or Jacob will be King sooner than predicted,” I said, angry. He knew something was up and didn’t tell me. He knew something. “It’ll be okay. We’ll make it so.”
Dani nodded, sitting longer in heavy silence before turning to me and taking my hands. “You’re my daughter, of course. But you’re also like a sister, and it’s nice not to be alone anymore. You’re right. We’ll make it okay. If nothing else, I’ll kill the boy, and she can choose her mate, rewrite her past, and move on. That will also be okay. She’d survive his loss because I’ll make it so.”
And that is how a real primordial power thinks.
I am not a primordial power, but I nodded my head anyway because this wasn’t a point I would argue. Yet.
“Coi,” she started.
“Will be fine,” I finished. “He gets like this. Marriage is sometimes another type of cold war. He’ll realize it’s done and move on to helping us get Aurora through this.”
“Males,” The Goddess of The Universe and The Maker of All Things sighed, making a true smile burst across my face.
“Yes,” I laughed. “Males.”
I stood, hugged Dani, and lost myself to the night.
Chapter 22
Coimeadai
I could not find my wife. And, yes, it was my fault since I left her to deal with things she should not have to deal with alone. Still, in my defense, my thoughts at the time would not allow me to stay. I was going to kill someone, and I still might.
I had gone into a rage, looking for a fight. I had found one in my father’s in-law. They had been sparing when I sifted there on accident, meaning to go to Scottland to cool my heels. Instead, I stripped off my shirt and waded into their fight, turning it into something more. They smiled and allowed it, but now I knew why.
They kicked my ass. Almost. I could see on their faces that they had wanted to do it for a long time, and they did not, did not, go easy on me.
They were formidable fighters, and I would never think otherwise again.
They also, possibly, hold a bit of a grudge against the thing that captured their daughter’s heart and made it his.
Parents. Am I right?
So, whilst I was losing strips of flesh under the magic blades of four Fae Kings, I left my wife to deal with Aurora, the Shifters, other Gods, and who knows what else, and now I could not find her. I could not find Aurora either, and Noah, the ass, was not taking my calls.
I did not have a metaphysical link to Aurora and could not sift to her. The bond with my wife was a soft present hum, but I couldn’t follow it to her side. Every place I sifted once the fight was over, and the sun long since raised into the sky, I could feel our bond, but it was no weaker or stronger. What. The. Hell. I was angry before, but I was furious now. At myself, mostly as I had done this.
The upside was that I was sifting seamlessly now. Practice makes perfect, and I practiced long into the morning, only going to Scotland when I wanted. I checked every property I owned, even the forgotten ones. Twice. I went to Maryland a half dozen times, back to Ireland, Pawley’s Island, and even Charleston. I smelled coffee, my mother, and Lara at the beach house, but those scents were faded. I stayed and tidied the kitchen, putting their dishes away, thinking she might return.
Finally, I gave up and returned to Ireland because if my wife did not wish to be found, she would not be. Had I wanted to be part of the solution, I would have stayed and engaged in the conversation instead of running off like a mad toddler.
I tried her phone, listening as it went to voicemail before I put on a tea kettle to try and soothe my nerves with some Irish morning blend.
“You’re an idiot,” my mother said as she materialized on a bar stool with my sweet little brother in her arms.
“I am aware,” I deadpanned, pulling another teacup from the cupboard. “Where is my wife?” I asked, pouring steaming water over the loose-leaf tea holders waiting in both cups.
“Someplace you can’t go,” she answered, arching a delicate eyebrow. “She’s tired, and you’re an idiot. Leave her be.”
“Bloody hell,” I replied, mad at myself for thinking she would stay in a realm I could actually search. I really was a moron.
“She demanded Aurora bring the wolf boy to Maryland this afternoon. She’ll rest a few days and not miss that meeting for anything,” she finished, causing me to cock my head like a confused teacup poodle before I sussed out that wherever Lara is, time passes much faster. Good for her; I might be jealous.
But I was still mad.
“The wolf,”
“It’s dealt with, Son. There’s only so much that can be done, but we’re doing it,” she condescended. “You should’ve been there.” She kissed the downy hair on my brother’s head before picking up her teacup and studiously ignoring me as she sipped.
But she relented and caught me up on overnight events, making me angrier that I had bailed on the situation. Still, my mother assured me it was probably for the best as these things were better handled by the females and that I, for all my strengths, was neither a female nor a Goddess and that I should probably keep my fat male mouth shut.
I got her message, keeping that mouth shut and letting her lovingly berate me for most of the early afternoon.
“Go change,” she said eventually, “and I’ll take you to Maryland. Lara will be there; I have no doubt.
“She searched the galaxy for the wolf Goddes, Coi. Understand this. She called to the primordials, and some of them would’ve answered had I not stopped her. I’m responsible, I know. I did this. By reaching for something small for my people, thinking of only making a new Fae Queen to ensure their survival. I did so much more, but isn’t that what Gods do? Don’t all of us overreach?” She turned to tend my brother, but I understood what she wasn’t saying as her words ended in a forlorn sigh.
I am going to lose my wife if I am not careful. I know this. Part of me deigns to believe I can stop it from happening, but the other part? I need to become a better monster. But how can she not ascend? My mother made her a Goddess, and sometimes, I curse that. But my mother returns to us, and is she not also a Goddess? She is the Goddess. But I do not want to share my wife with the stars, other Gods, or some vague threat to her that I cannot possibly understand, though my mother warns me of.
I showered and changed quickly, needing to see Lara and Aurora. I needed to understand what type of deal the Goddesses brokered, and I needed to threaten a wolf boy within an inch of his life. I wanted to take his life, but through my many sifts, I came to understand what Lara was saying and knew I could not.
I dressed in a black on, black, on black bespoke Huntsman suit that spoke to the darkness in my soul. I wanted to highlight that I was more than merely Mr. Lara Hennessey. I certainly was Mr. Hennessey and always would be that male, but I was much, much more, and I challenged anyone to forget that, including my wife, mother, and children.
It is easy to forget that I am not a weak male in a House full of Goddesses. As Lara’s power grows, so does mine, something my mother ensured. I lengthened my long, needlelike fangs enough so that no one would mistake the threat, something I never did but would start doing immediately because I am more than one thing, as are we all.
My mother waited patiently in the kitchen, bouncing Max in her arms like a professional, which I suppose she was. She shook her head when she saw me, letting a smile grace her lips.
“You will make an impression,” she said, her smile widening to show even, white teeth.
“As intended,” I replied, unbuttoning one button under my neck to give the false appearance of nonchalance.
“We must make a quick side trip to drop Max with his father before I sift you to Maryland. It won’t take but a second,” she offered, making me smile this time.
“Go ahead, Mother; I will meet you there.” I sifted away without thought, my destination firmly planted in my internal GPS because the females in my life weren’t the only ones who knew how to level up.
Apparently, Lara had the same idea as I. She wore the gown of a queen or Goddess, if you will, a long, fat braid resting down her back, and a scowl that shook the world. What is a Goddess gown, you ask? It was a heavy thing, brocade and inlaid silver, perhaps a warning to the wolf child who stole my granddaughter from me.
Curled auburn tendrils framed her face and twined around an ornate, curled, silver circlet set upon her brow. This was an arrangement she had woven from magic, not bought off the internet, and yet another nod to her power.
Anger sparked in her eyes at the displaced air heralding my arrival, but she said nothing, focusing instead on a tall, lanky shifter male tentatively holding the hand of the child he’d stolen. He had not even filled out to match his height, showing his age or lack thereof. My anger exploded, and I parted my lips to show the hint of fang I allowed just as my mother popped into the room.
“Sorry I’m late,” she started, immediately diffusing the situation. “I had to drop the baby off with his dad and then sifted to get us all a coffee,” she finished, passing out hot cups to everyone but the wolf, who hung his head lower at the blatant show of power in the room. He also probably wondered that the only three adults currently present happened to appear out of midair.
I set my coffee aside and crossed my arms, eyes lasered on the kid holding Aurora’s hand. In deep contrast to Aurora, his hair was black, eyes dark, and skin the color of aged bronze. Corded muscles stretched across his lean frame, and when he stood to shake my hand, finally meeting my eyes, he stood over me by at least four inches, and I am not a short male.
“Jacob, Sir. Jacob Mars,” he introduced, and I let his hand linger in the air before finally grasping it in the age-old way of fathers and suitors.
“Aedan Hennessey, King of the Vampires, Husband of the American Fae Queen, and the only Fae-Vampire hybrid remaining apart from my daughter, Aurora’s mother. There are no others because I killed them,” I snarled with a smile on my face and a tightening of my grip. It was not a friendly smile, and he did not mistake it as such.
