No one had expected her to do something so bold, and there had been no time to protest before it was in her hands. Dub had feared a riot when she plucked the first string.
Then she wove her magic, and—based on the current mood—if he tried to take the harp from her now, there would be a different kind of protest.
She used the instrument well, weaving the power of emotion with a skill that not even Mell possessed. She conjured dreams of home, of comfort and warm fires after a long battle fought and won.
She conjured dreams he’d given up too many years ago to count.
The players finished up another song and Bat shifted, tucking her other leg under her and brushing her hair over a shoulder. It fell to her mid back, shining like black silk, dark as the night. Lamplight glinted along it, forming warm stars.
Those same stars shone in her eyes.
Dub rolled his shoulders and dismissed the mawkish sentiment. That was something Mell would put in a song, and not something Dub should ever think of a bedamned goddess.
She leaned toward Mell, and her sweater pulled against her round frame, outlining her chest and the indent of her waist. He suppressed a growl as Mell smiled back at her, his cursed charm kicking in.
“You could always go talk to her, you know.” Shar stepped up beside him.
Dub tensed. “It was a risk, even letting her in.” He hadn’t shared with his brothers what his research had found, had wanted to wait until he knew for sure what they were dealing with.
Now it was biting him in the arse.
“Not so much of a risk.” Shar poured a whiskey and shoved it in front of Dub. “You had to know she had power when you answered the door. And, it’s not so much as to be dangerous.”
“There was the flare when she crossed the wards.”
“Eh, any who entered for the first time would flare. Especially if they weren’t expecting the barrier. Little thing’s weak. And you know this place has a buildup, it probably gave her a surge.” He poured a glass of whiskey of his own and sipped. “Evened out soon enough.”
Dub’s lip twitched. Their new tenant wasn’t that little. In fact, she had a nice heft to her. Only Shar would call her little. Of course, to Shar, everyone was little. Dub looked back to Bat, the goddess. Bright blue winked at him from the area of her throat. He sensed no malice from her, but his skills had never been with emotion. “She’s playing the Dagda’s harp.”
“And about time someone did.” The corner of Shar’s mouth turned up. He must be feeling the effects of her song as well.
“Mell’s already half in love.” Dub was like a lake dragon and his treasure, unwilling to let go of his determination to find fault. Even knowing he did, it didn’t stop him.
“Mell’s always half in love.” Shar refilled the whiskey Dub didn’t realize he’d finished. “Dub.”
When his brother didn’t continue, Dub finally tore his gaze from Bat and met Shar’s one-eyed stare.
“She’s not Derbforgaill. Or Grainne.” Shar’s gentle tones grated on Dub’s nerves.
The names cut through him. He no longer felt the pain that even the mention of Derbforgaill used to bring, but the betrayal still stung. More so than the actual loss of the woman herself. And Grainne, well, the damage she had done to him was minor in comparison to what she had done to others. “I know that.”
“Give her a chance. She’s got some power, obviously, but it’s faint. Other than playing that long-neglected harp and the flare, she’s done naught.” Shar’s gaze wandered to the dark-haired woman, and his brows drew together. “She didn’t even know we were the landlords. Said a friend helped her set up the room. She’s not as assured as she seems. Said she hadn’t traveled much, and I’ve a feeling that was an understatement.”
Dub’s left eyelid twitched. Damn it. He was going to have to come clean. “I did some digging.” He leaned on the bar as though resting and sketched a quick rune on the wood for silence. Tricks mostly used by the human Druids, and a skill he’d worked long and hard to master. “She’s a goddess.”
“Well, I could ha’ told ya that.” Shar’s voice deepened.
A small grin quirked Dub’s lips, and he kicked his brother’s shin. “Not like that. You’re as bad as Mell. No, she’s a fucking goddess. Egyptian. Obscure. Took quite a bit of research.”
“Huh. Came up clean on the background check.” Shar tilted his head. “Never heard of Bat.”
“Course she turned up clean. There was nothing to find.” That was the problem. The report had been too clean, no tickets, no reports, no fines or schooling records. From Egypt that wasn’t so strange in itself. Many of the women were missing records, or never had them.
It was the secondary contact that had sent him searching further. Bastet, the awesomest Cat of Egypt, and an email. He’d almost dismissed it as someone having a bit of fun, but an instinct he’d learned never to ignore had prodded him into digging. And it had taken a lot of digging.
He continued. “Older. Pre-dynastic. Hard to find much information on her. Doesn’t even have any surviving temples.” His fist clenched, and the muscles of his forearm tightened. He pushed away from the bar top, careful to keep his power—strength—on a tight leash. They didn’t need to be replacing the bar top. Again.
“Explains the lack of power.” Shar, calm as always, moved down the bar when Meera, one of the regulars, signaled for another pint. When he was done he came back to Dub’s side. “That why you accepted her application?”
Dub shrugged. The same instinct that had insisted he investigate had also insisted they take her in. He didn’t have to like it though. “Just wish I knew why she came here.”
Now Shar shrugged. “Nothing bad, or the wards would’ve kept her out. You know that.” His expression softened as his gaze moved back to the woman now plucking along to an old Irish ballad, a look of contentment and concentration on her face. His eyelids slipped closed, and he joined in the last line of the song.
And out of the window with another went she.
Dub rolled his eyes. Why did the Irish have to be so sentimental of tragedy? He and his brothers had been here so long they had just about fully embraced this quirk, but sometimes it rubbed him wrong. Now, a good battle, he—and the Irish—did love those. These days, though, they were all fought with guns and bombs and no honor. Took the fun right out.
He braced himself and said the last of it. “Some say Bat was the reason Upper and Lower Egypt united. She stood between Horus and Seth and held the peace.”
Shar’s eye popped open at this. “The Unifier.” His words were barely a whisper.
Dub nodded.
The silence between them grew. Then Shar shrugged, his massive shoulders moving as mountains. “You could always ask her why she’s here.”
Why did his brother have to be so calmly logical all the time? Wasn’t the youngest brother supposed to be the brash troublemaker? Hah. That was exactly what he was doing, just in a fashion worthy of a sneaky sidhe. Dub’s eyes narrowed. “Damn you, Searbhan.”
His brother just grinned at him.
MELL
Mell smiled at Bat, probing her emotions, trying to get a better read on her. He couldn’t truly get thoughts, never had been able to, but he could glean quite a bit from the scraps of emotion that always leaked from a being.
Even a goddess.
Mell had figured it out. It must have been this that made Dub so jumpy—and more than surly—over the last weeks. His brother had been in charge of vetting the renter. Mell had stumbled on his notes, too, but they were ambiguous. Now he knew what “representation of the milky way” meant. It was the damned stars in her eyes. Add in the fact she could play the Uaithne, that she would think almost nothing of picking it up in the first place, confirmed it for him.
And now that he’d met her, he knew the precise reason Bat was here.
She was lonely.
He continued to pick out the melody, Dano’s fiddle following him while Bat worked to keep up. The sweet t
ones of the Dagda’s harp filled the pub, easing worries and troubles. He could feel old resentments fade away under the gentle notes.
Comfort.
And that was Bat’s contribution.
She was beautiful. Dark and soft. Something a man could sink into, could lose himself in. She would cradle him and ease away the pain. How the gods of her land would let her up and leave like that he didn’t know, but he was glad for it.
The color returned to her face, a warm and deep flush along her golden cheeks. Everything about her spoke of foreign lands and exotic adventures, the kind he hadn’t been on in far too long. The last…
He shoved aside the memories. He didn’t think of that time, ever. His life had achieved a delicate balance, and he was careful to keep it. Mell focused on the now. Always on the now.
Maybe, if his brother didn’t interfere, he would be able to explore these new lands that appeared before him.
He slipped a tendril of longing, and then another of desire, into the melody.
Bat’s fingers tripped over the strings and stilled. She stared at him wide-eyed for a bare second then her eyes narrowed. She hit a discordant chord, cutting off Mell’s power.
It was his turn to falter.
He shot a quick look at the patrons and noted the wide grins. They hadn’t missed the byplay. Based on the scowl Dub wore, he hadn’t failed to notice it either.
Damn. There would be a lecture later.
He put out a bit of amusement, and a gentle affection, soothing the scene back into the light playfulness of earlier.
The night continued like this. For the next three hours, they played. The banshee joined in sometimes on a pair of pipes she brought with her. Old Mike sang as well. The will o’ the wisp had a good voice. Shar brought their new goddess another whiskey-laced tea, handing it to her with an overly gentle hand.
Looked like she was weaving a spell on more than just Mell.
Finally, it was time to close up and for the customers to be on their way. Mell said goodbye to Dano, promising the little man he’d come to see him the next day and settle payment on their joint… project. Dub locked the door behind the last patron and lowered all but the lights behind the bar. They’d finish the cleanup in the morning.
Mell glanced at Bat where she sat in her chair, lids drooping. She swayed slightly, and he rushed to her side, chuckling. “Here now, let’s get you to bed, shall we?”
“Not yours,” she said and yawned.
“Certainly not. I would want you awake when you come to my bed.” He held out his hand.
She sent him a sleepy glare but accepted his help. He pulled her to her feet and led her to the narrow hall leading to the back stairs. When they reached the top, she stood there waiting for direction.
“Third door to the left. Room faces the canal. Can’t really call it a river, though some do.” He kept his voice soothing.
She blinked at him and headed left. When she went past the door, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. She stared at the knob until he reached out to turn it, gently pushing the door open. He gave her a small shove to get her moving, then guided her to the bed and watched as she fell into it. Grinning, he slipped off her flats and spread a comforter over her.
“Sleep well, Bat of the two faces. Welcome to Ireland.”
Chapter 4
Bastet,
I am beginning to suspect none of what I have to tell you will come as a surprise.
This pub is an intriguing place. They gather like family and sing cheerful songs of battles and loves lost. It is quite the contradiction. One of them, the big one like a pirate, made me a wonderful type of tea. I will see if I can find what kind it is and send you some. You would like it.
- Bat, the goddess who has strawberries.
BAT
Bat stretched under the fluffy comforter that covered her. It wasn’t very heavy, but it had kept her snug through the night. She vaguely recalled Mell leading her up the stairs and to the bed. Last night had been amazing. Well, after she had warmed through it had been amazing. She hadn’t had fun like that in too many years.
Stretching out her arms, she flexed her fingers, feeling a twinge of soreness; but it was the soreness of well-used muscles, and of accomplishment, and she didn’t mind it one bit. Yawning, she pulled her arms back in toward her chest and snuggled into her pillow. She tried to recapture her dream, one of strong arms and music, but it eluded her.
A horn honked, and a car door slammed on the street below, the sound carrying through her window. A faint clanking, followed by a soft chime, filtered through her window. A shouted greeting and another slamming door came next.
The world stirred and so must she.
Pausing for a few seconds more to enjoy the fluffiness surrounding her, she eventually pushed back the cover only to find she still wore the tights and sweater of yesterday. She blinked crusty eyes and licked over her teeth.
Was it improper that the power she missed most of all was the one that did away with the need to constantly manually groom herself? Mornings were the time she felt the most human. What is the use of being a goddess if you still had to brush your hair and teeth regularly? She sniffed. And wash under your arms.
She sat up and crossed her legs. This must be her room; at least, there was no one else in it, and there were none of the intimate touches a person put on a place they considered theirs.
It was small, but snug. The walls were a light rose with accents of bright blue. Sunlight filtered through cream-colored curtains that covered the windows beside her bed and along the right wall, and thin rugs were placed in strategic spots on the wooden floor. A tall dresser stood against one wall, and a low side table had a place to one side of the bed. There were two doors: one opposite the bed and currently closed, the other beside the dresser, open a crack and through it, she could see shining white tile and a mirror.
It matched the pictures from the Internet exactly.
Best of all, it was warm.
Spotting her case against the wall on the other side of the dresser, she pushed aside the urge to remain right where she was for the rest of the day and rolled out of bed.
Time to get started on her new life, and see if she could find out just what the cat had landed her in.
Clean and in her warmest clothes, Bat pulled open the door of her room and peeked out, looking up and down the hall. It was narrow, with grooved wood wainscot and a flower pattern on the walls. There were four closed doors, the other two on her side of the hall and two more opposite, but no brothers.
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She hoped they didn’t ask her to find another place, but after last night she wasn’t so sure they wouldn’t. Mell seemed to like her, but Dub hadn’t stopped scowling in her direction from the time she stepped into the pub. Shar was harder to read, but she hoped the fact he kept bringing her that lovely tea-with-a-bite indicated he welcomed her.
She’d made it halfway down the stairs when low voices and the clink of glass reached her. She followed the sounds through a doorway and into the pub. It looked different in the light of day, somehow both more and less magical. And though not nearly as old as her destroyed temple, she could feel the age of the place.
The three brothers worked around the room. Mell swept, shifting chairs to get under the tables. Dub was behind the bar, wiping down the counter and shelves. Shar stood at the far end, sorting bottles and glasses into a large sink.
They carried out the actions with no fuss, no protest or groaning. Their limbs moved in graceful motion, efficient.
“Can I help?” The words left her before she knew she’d had the thought.
Three heads lifted in unison and turned to her. There was one long pause, and then Dub spoke. “No. You are a paying tenant. In fact, you’re paid up for the next two months. There is no need for you to work here.”
“Oh.” There was a twinge in her chest. It was not that she wanted to engage in menial labor, but she had wanted to help. To make the offeri
ng in thanks for the warm welcome.
Mell shot a dark look at his brother and set aside his broom. He crossed to her, stopping far enough away that she didn’t need to crane her head back. “Did you sleep well?” His mellow tones eased her disappointment.
She raised a brow. “You should really stop doing that.”
Shar let out a short laugh and joined his brother in front of her. “You can tell when he’s pulling the strings, can’t you?” Grinning, he slapped his brother. “She’s got ya now.”
“Ummm... yes, I can tell. And I appreciated it last night. But I do not approve of constant use. If you do it too much, you’ll forget what is real.”
Mell’s eyes narrowed while Shar smirked. The taller brother looked like a... rogue. Like one of those pirates on the romance books Hathor liked to order. Bastet would sneak a couple to Bat every few months, whenever she didn’t think they would be missed. They were entertaining, though Bat often found the heroines to be very silly.
“How did you get so wise, little goddess?” Mell’s voice was smooth and low; sound alone. He had pulled back his power.
What did he mean, wise? “It seems to be common sense to me. And I am not as young as I look.” She gave him a smile, seeking to take any sting from her words. Also, goddess? “You know of me? I thought too many had forgotten...” She trailed off, looking between the two brothers, unsure of what she sought.
Mell tilted his head to the side. “We are not idiots.”
“And we are not as trusting as some.” Shar sent her a pointed look. “Dub did his research before you even got here.”
“Then you knew all along? Why the hesitation in letting me in?” Anger stirred. She’d been cold.
The Forgotten Trilogy Page 3