As the Crow Flies (Book 19 in the Godhunter Series)
Page 35
“Hey, enough of that now,” Trevor teased as he plopped down in the grass beside us. “Look where that got us,” he waved a hand toward my stomach.
“Damage is done,” Kirill chuckled, and went on in his Russian accent, “Vervain can't get more pregnant.”
“No, but she can get more tired,” Odin took a seat with a bit more grace than Trevor had. “And I'd like some time with our wife tonight.”
“That sounds lovely,” I slid my arm out to Odin, and he took my hand. “Are we going out or staying in?”
“Staying in,” Azrael, my angelic husband (literally angelic) strode up with a grim countenance. “I've just had a call from Cernunnos.”
“Cernunnos called you?” I sat up, easing Kirill back gently. “On what?”
“My phone,” Azrael frowned at me like he wasn't sure if I was messing with him or not.
“Cernunnos has a phone?” I gaped at Az.
“Doesn't everyone?” Az shot back.
“Ha ha,” I grimaced at him.
He was actually quoting me, back when I was first trying to get all of my god friends to be more connected. One of my tactics had been telling them that most humans, even the poorest, had cell phones. Gods didn't like to be outdone by humans. But I knew most gods hadn't upgraded to human means of communication yet, and Cernunnos in particular was a forest god, not exactly the type to give into technology.
“I gave him one when he came back from Faerie,” Az shrugged. “I figured you'd want to keep in touch.”
“Is there any news?” I went still.
The main reason I'd wanted to keep in touch with Cernunnos, despite him being an awesome guy, was that he was also a Celtic god. One of the few who hadn't involved himself in their latest battle, that between the Tuatha Dé Dannan and the Formorians. Cernunnos and our friend, Lugh, had both sat out the battle in Faerie. Cernunnos had just been visiting. Lugh, however, had moved to Faerie after I'd unwittingly divulged the secret of his parentage. Lugh had grown up thinking his father was a dead god, when in fact, he was very much alive, and also the High King of Faerie. Now Lugh was a prince. A high prince.
“Yes, and it's bad,” Azrael took a seat between Trevor and Odin.
Kirill sat up behind me, and laid his hand supportively against my back. I leaned into him without thinking.
“The Tuatha lost?” Odin asked what we were all wondering.
“Yes,” Azrael swallowed hard. “Horribly. Tara is under Formorian control, and the Tuatha have suffered great loses.”
“Morrigan?” Trevor growled the name of my nemesis, and we all tensed.
“Lives,” Azrael shook his head. “That she would survive when so many others died, it's ironic to say the least.”
“That woman is like a cockroach,” I growled, “disgustingly scary and really hard to kill.”
“Ve need big can of Raid,” Kirill huffed, and I gave him a little smile.
“Who died?” Odin asked, and I jerked my gaze back to Azrael.
“I'm so sorry, Odin,” Az laid his hand on Odin's arm. “Nuada is dead.”
Odin tensed, his jaw clenching, and I crawled across the space separating us, to hug him. He fell against me, his face settling into my neck, and shuddered. But he didn't shed a single tear. He just stayed there a few minutes to gain his composure before he let go of me and sat back.
“Are you alright?” I asked him.
“I need to tell Thor,” Odin gave me a quick kiss and got to his feet, abruptly striding out of the garden as we all gaped after him.
“I guess he didn't want to hear about the others,” Azrael blinked.
“What others?” I asked. “Who else died?”
“Dagda,” Azrael said solemnly.
“Their king?” I made a disbelieving sound. “Wow, that must have been a blow for them.”
“Dagda held them together,” Azrael nodded. “Now the Tuatha have scattered, and are rumored to be hiding in the Human Realm.”
“Hiding?” Trevor's voice was a mix of sympathy and scorn. He'd had to hide once too, and had vowed to never do so again.
“They have nowhere else to go,” Azrael shrugged. “Not only have the Formorians taken Tara, they've claimed all of the Celtic territory. The only piece untouched by Formorian rule is Cernunnos' forest.”
“He's good at remaining neutral,” I offered.
“Yeah, he said King Elatha likes him,” Azrael huffed.
“Oh no, what about Nuada's dogs?” I asked suddenly. “They'll be waiting for him on his island. Who's going to take care of them now?”
“They're fine,” Azrael assured me. “Cernunnos went to fetch them, and took the dogs back to Faerie. Lugh has them now.”
“Oh, that's good,” I relaxed. “The poor things.”
“Cernunnos said he would have kept the dogs himself, but with everything as it is, he felt they'd be safer in Faerie,” Az went on.
“Safer?” I lifted a brow. “I thought he said Elatha liked him?”
“He also said Elatha could be fickle,” Azrael grimaced.
“I still don't know where I stand on that whole situation,” I said honestly. “Elatha seemed nice enough to me, and frankly, I'd demolish anyone who tried to keep my people underground like the Tuatha did to the Formorians.”
“But remember what they were like before the Tuatha put them there,” Trevor shook his head. “The Tuatha didn't feel as if they had a choice.”
“I don't know,” I sighed. “I wasn't there, and I have a feeling that there's a lot we weren't told. I can only judge on how the Formorians behave now. If they start using their magic to harm the Human Realm or the humans who live there, then I'll have a problem with them. As it is, I say we just leave them be.”
“I agree,” Kirill nodded, replacing his hand on my belly. “Ve need to focus on our own family. Let zem deal vith zeir problems.”
“Sounds good to me,” Trevor laid back in the grass.
“So be it,” Azrael nodded and joined Trevor.
I snuggled back amid my men happily, thoughts of war receding amidst the feel of strong arms and the scent of lion, wolf, and angel. We'd had enough drama lately, it was time to let trouble pass us by.
But as I looked up at the glimmering butterflies fluttering above us, I knew that this serenity wouldn't last. Someone would cry werewolf, and I would go running to help them defend their sheep. I'm a softy like that. Or maybe it was just mommy hormones.
About the Author
Amy Sumida lives on an island in the Pacific Ocean where gods can still be found. She sleeps in a fairy bed, high in the air, with two gravity-defying felines and upon waking, enjoys nothing more than typing away all day, recording the voices in her head. She, like Vervain, has no filter but has been fortunate enough to find friends who appreciate this... or at least polite enough to lie and tell her they do. She aspires to someday become a crazy cat lady, sitting on her rocker on her front porch and guarding her precious kitties with a shotgun full of rock salt. She bellydances and paints pictures on her walls but is happiest with her nose stuck in a book, her mind in a different world than this one, filled with fantastical men who unfortunately don't exist in our boring reality. Thank the gods for fantasy.
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