Mell stiffened then sighed. Regret rose up and fought the contentment that had replaced his embarrassment as they talked.
I can feel so much from him. Bat marveled at how open Mell was being with her. He’d brought down all his barriers during their bout of sex, and had yet to pull them back up.
“They were just worried about me,” Mell said.
“I know.” She hesitated, uncertain if she should delve into what happened. If he shows any signs of withdrawing, I will stop, she promised herself. “I do think you were right.”
His fingers continued the gentle dance along her arm. “About what?”
“About sending it to him.” There was no need for her to specify what “it” was and which “him” she referred to. “It would… end things. Properly end them, so all of you could move on. If Dub keeps it, he’s still hanging onto the past.”
Mell’s hand closed over her arm, so he was rubbing his palm over her skin instead of just his fingers. “I know that to. It hurts to cut that last tie, though. I think part of me—and them—always thought Da would welcome us back with open arms.” He let out a dark chuckle. “Even though I know that would never happen. Da couldn’t make himself do it. Because of me.”
They were heading into dangerous territory. She’d say one more thing, and then let the conversation lie. “I don’t think he ever hated you.”
He tugged on her arm until she was laying on him fully, her breasts pressed to his chest, her legs parted over his upper groin and her head nestled in the curve of his shoulder. Both his arms wrapped around her as though she was a giant stuffed animal he needed to hold in order to sleep. “He did. It lasted for a little over three hours. After that he was… changed. I was eight. It took me a long time to figure out what happened.”
He was silent for a long while. Bat was dozing off when he spoke again.
“I know he cared for me, in his own manner. I mean, I could always feel it. His actions just never matched those emotions I felt from him. I think it makes it worse that way, to hear the care he has for us, only to feel the pain of his treatment a moment later. It was tearing me apart.” He hummed a snatch of melody.
There were flickers of the pain he mentioned, and anger, but they were overshadowed by his contentment.
“I was the one who made the decision to leave, he simply… gave his blessing in a twisted kind of way,” Mell continued. He had opened the gates to these memories and feelings, and was determined to get them out. She understood this. “It’s the same as what he did today. He cares, but he doesn’t know how to show it in any but a cruel way.” One hand stroked over her back. “You’re right, we need to truly let it all go. If we keep the brooch we are hanging onto a future that was never going to exist from the moment Da found out I wasn’t his.”
Relief surged out from Mell. Had he never admitted that piece of his pain out loud? Had he maybe never admitted it to himself? Was he following his own words and letting the past go? She didn’t know, but she did know that something in him shifted with those words. A tear deep in his soul started to close.
Mell sighed. “I’ll talk Dub around eventually, I always do. I wouldn’t mention this to either of them, though. Not about Da kicking us out for our own good, or him loving us in his sick and twisted soul. That… would no’ go over well.”
Visions of Dub tearing his father’s boat, The Golden Crane, to pieces one strip of metal at a time entered her mind. It wasn’t a true vision, but she could see it so clearly it may as well have been.
“Agreed,” she said. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Is it a naughty question?”
“No.”
“Oh. Well, if you must,” he said with mock-disappointment.
“If you had not been born as Alatrom’s son and a Fomoiri, what would you have wanted to become?”
“A bard.”
She hadn’t expected him to answer so quickly. “You have thought about it.”
“Yes. I love my music. Da let me learn how to play, but he refused to let me try my own songs, or take lessons for them. Claimed a proper Fomoiri took up the sword and fought for his clan. Part of him wanted to let me do as I wished, but…”
She knew what that but was. They did not need to revisit it. “What about when you left home? I’m sure you could have found someone to teach you? As Dub found someone to teach him smithing?”
Mell shrugged under her. The contentment was fading away. “Maybe I’ll look for someone when we’re done with this.”
“Really?”
Flash. Mell bent over his guitar, scraps of paper with melodies and lyrics scribbled over them littered the table in front of him.
“Well, I have to survive this first.”
“You will,” she said, determined. I will make sure of it.
“So fierce. Go to sleep, little warrior. My realta.”
“Okay. Love you.”
He didn’t answer, but a glow of warmth radiated from him. Bat fell asleep with that feeling wrapped around her.
Chapter 17
FINN
It was their second day on the boat, and they were nearly halfway to their destination, at least according to Saoirse. Ari had informed them the cauldron had stopped moving some time the day before, and Bat and this rag-tag group were definitely heading in the correct direction.
Finn wasn’t sure he trusted the selkie. They were like cats, scheming and sly. Finn also didn’t like the woman’s choice of words. She had wanted to come “play.” The fae of Ireland hadn’t been up against a foe like this in far too long. They had forgotten just how ruthless and cunning Balor could be, if words like “play” were being thrown around.
Then again, she was a selkie—and a daughter of mac Lir. And considering they faced Balor of the Evil Eye, Finn knew full well he couldn’t be picky about his allies. He should be weeding out the weak and incompetent—and that was at least half of what they were currently dragging around with them—but no matter how he thought about it, they needed the sheer number of bodies to make their plan work.
If only The Morrigan wasn’t being a fickle bitch. If only the Tribunal hadn’t washed their hands of the whole thing. If only an Egyptian goddess hadn’t decided that Ireland would be her new home…
No. He didn’t really believe that, and he wouldn’t think like that. He was well aware he was being a grumpy asshole-wanker that should be dipped in tar and then skinned alive. He even knew the real reason he currently acted like more of a shit-spittle than Dub…
It was because of Bat, his goddess. She was keeping secrets from them, something he’d never thought she would do. She’d always been so different from all the other deities he’d ever known in his too-long life. But Finn was familiar with that distant look, that smile that wasn’t a smile, and he knew what it meant when evasive and cryptic words were used. Like the ones she’d used last night.
Either she didn’t know the answer and was trying to maintain some air of authority and mysteriousness, or she was keeping secrets. As much as he hated to admit it, the latter was more likely than the first. Oh, his goddess could be mysterious, but she never did it deliberately. Of course, he didn’t think she’d be keeping secrets either…
He twisted his head to where Bat sat on a low bench-seat running along one end of the foredeck. Her harp, the Uaithne, was in its case and cradled in her arms. After yesterday, she’d not let it leave her sight.
Finn didn’t blame her for that one.
There was an invisible circle around her. Despite the lack of space on a boat not really meant to carry over thirty people, no one sat next to her; not even Ailis or the brothers. Not Finn.
A soft breeze danced around her, playing with the strands of her dark hair, then shifted, bringing him her scent—heat, crisp air, the subtle bite of pepper and the light fragrance of cornflowers. Then the breeze carried it away once more.
He recalled the first time he’d scented that particular combination, the day Mell had called him to the pub to take ch
arge of Dano’s body and the murder investigation. The day The Morrigan showed up in his office in Sligo.
He sighed. That was the beginning…
Bat sat alone, gazing into the horizon of where sea met sky, her lips tipped up. He wouldn’t call it a smile, it was more a quirk of her lips, and held nothing of joy or happiness.
No, it was the smile someone used to mask loneliness.
What had happened?
His earlier anger was gone, washed away by the look on her face. Concern replaced it. He only wanted her to smile like she used to, like she had just two days ago as they sat at the cottage’s small breakfast table and plotted what they would need to take Balor down…
Then she had called someone, one of the gods in Egypt. After that call was when she changed, he realized. She’d withdrawn. It was so gradual; he hadn’t noted it at the time. Then yesterday, during the meeting, she’d barely participated. After she’d summarized her visions in a flat voice, she’d sat between Dub and Mell, her eyes distant. True, they hadn’t settled much, mostly due to the fact they couldn’t until they had done a proper reconnaissance of the island, but it had been extremely out of character for her.
Ailis stood on the opposite end of the small deck, Meera and Teagan next to her, and they too casted worried looks at the Egyptian goddess. Bat had spent a while with the trooping fae yesterday. Killer and the pixies had guarded the ladder, keeping everyone away, and Ailis must have cast some type of “don’t listen” glamour, because even Finn had found it hard to keep his attention on the two figures in the lookout over the bridge.
Ailis knew something…
Finn shook off his thoughts. No, if he was going to find out what was troubling his goddess, he needed to speak with her directly, not go behind her back to dig out the information from her best friend.
I guess a guardi’s need to interrogate has become ingrained. His lips quirked up in a self-deprecating smile.
He needed to talk to Bat. With any other deity he would have left it alone. They operated on a different plane than the rest of the mere mortals—or immortals as the case may be—but Bat was different. She lived with the brothers and those she met at the pub, not just among them.
How was he going to approach this?
His gaze fell once more to the harp. Maybe…
His phone rang. Of course. He glanced at the caller ID. Criedne. “Yes?”
“Finn. We kept them as busy as we could. We’ve been trading off with Cu Chulainn’s team as well as macMorna’s. Then they suddenly broke off, and we haven’t been able to locate a single hint of shadow.”
The Hunt. “When did they disengage?”
“Three hours ago.”
“Hmmmm.” Even if you disregarded the fact that The Wild Hunt had come after them in the first place, their behavior was strange. He’d assumed they were sent to capture Bat, the human, and the harp, then get them to Balor’s allies. The Hunt couldn’t follow them onto to seas, though. They would have sensed it as soon as their prey hit the water, and gone back to whatever plane of existence or dank corner they occupied in between chases. “Tell me exactly what they’ve been doing.”
“They stayed around Sligo for a bit. At first they headed north, but after an hour or so they circled back around to Sligo.”
Around the time of the attack at Finnegan’s.
“A few times they entered the edges of the towns, but we blocked them. Early this morning they began fighting their way east.”
Finn’s blood went cold. “Where, exactly, east?”
“It… We thought Dublin, and the Tribunal.”
“Criedne,” he ground out. It wasn’t like her to be so evasive. She usually just spit out whatever she needed to, uncaring of the reactions her words would generate. It was one of the best things about having her on his team.
“They disappeared a few kilometers outside Tara.”
What new hell was this? If Balor took Tara… They wouldn’t just have a potential war on their hands, they would have chaos. The humans’ legends of Tara only scratched the surface. It was not just the seat of the kings of Ireland. Whoever held Tara very literally held Ireland. There was a very real reason the solitary fae and other more rebellious immortals did not attempt rebellions and uprisings every few decades. No, they left that to the humans. “Criedne…”
“We know. I’ve alerted the Tribunal, though they didn’t sound concerned. The Chief is coordinating with the guardi units in Meath and Leinster,” she said, referring to the two districts nearest to Tara.
“And how much do they know?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Yes, his team and Cuchi’s knew most of what was going on—he’d planned to use them to fight Balor, after all. They’d told the Chief of Connaught district even less, simply stating that there was unusual activity among the solitary fae that needed to be investigated. Having a sluagh or Fir Bolg in the interrogation rooms wasn’t all that uncommon, nor was calling in a Druid to help with that interrogation… The chief had given them leave to run with their investigation.
If the Chiefs got involved, they would attempt to take over the operation. The Morrigan could step in and put them in their place, of course; but with the fickle nature of their gods, the likelihood of that happening was fifty-fifty, even with her sending Cuchi to help them. Oh, and the raven that was as fickle as its master and only bothered to show its beak when The Morrigan had something to say.
No, if the higher-ups in the Guardi knew what was happening then Bat, her visions, and her intuitions would be relegated to the side, even if she was a goddess. She wasn’t powerful enough, and she was Egyptian—an intruder. Respect would be outwardly shown, then her opinions would be lost in the booming voices of arguing generals. And that was only if some asshat didn’t decide she was somehow behind it all and took everything in the wrong direction…
As frustrated as he was, he agreed with The Morrigan and the Tribunal on one thing—Bat was the key to unraveling Balor’s plans.
All of this went through his mind in the time it took him to blink.
“Just that the Wild Hunt has been acting peculiarly, and was last seen headed for Tara.” Criedne said. “The Wild Hunt acting out of character was alarming enough, I didn’t need to tell them more.”
“And what did you tell them about me?”
“That you were using some of your more unsavory connections and had gone undercover to infiltrate the solitary fae and find what you could that way.”
Finn had to stifle a sudden laugh at the note of derision in his lieutenant’s voice. He knew it wasn’t directed at the “unsavory” connections he had, but at the gullibility of the upper echelons of the guardi. She’d pandered to their conceit and she knew it.
“You are all too clever to be just a lieutenant.”
“I know.”
He did laugh at that. “Keep tracking The Hunt, and make sure no one, and I do mean no one, gets into Tara. The only people I trust at this point are the ones I am with on this too crowded boat, Oisin, you and the rest of the team.”
“Got it.”
Criedne didn’t hang up. “Anything else?”
“How is she?”
Finn knew who he meant. Criedne had met Bat once on one of the guardi lieutenant’s rare visits to the pub. Bat had worked her charm on Criedne. “She’s Bat.”
“She’s good for you.”
Finn nearly choked on his own spit. He and Criedne never talked about personal matters. Never.
“Don’t fuck this up,” she said and hung up.
Once he’d recovered he tucked his phone in his pocket and stared out at the open water, not seeing the gray-blue expanse or clouded horizon. There was nothing he could do at the moment about what was happening on the mainland. No, he needed to concentrate on the situation on this boat, and on what was going on with Bat.
He had also just gotten an extremely important piece of information.
Which he was not going to share unless it became absolutely necessary, he realized. There was no reason
to worry about Tara unless they failed in killing Balor. If he told Bat or the others, it would only add another layer of pressure and stress, but would change nothing about their strategy.
Secrets…
Finn snorted and mentally slapped his own head. The last of whatever resentment and anger he might have held towards his little goddess drained away. He was a lot of things, but he was no hypocrite.
There was still a day until they reached Tir Hudi and could actually do anything.
He pushed away from the railing and headed for Bat. Finn had a new mission in mind, a very personal one. He was going to do what he could to see his goddess smile for him…
Chapter 18
Bastie,
Have you ever wondered just what it means to be a goddess?
- The Goddess Bat
BAT
A shadow fell over her and Bat looked up. Finn stood there, the sun outlining his imposing profile.
“Goddess,” he said as he sat beside her.
She’d been here for an hour or so, trying to enjoy the rocking of the boat under her and the gentle breeze that carried the scents of salt and foreign lands. Mell was taking his turn on the bridge, Dub and Shar were sleeping, and…
And everyone else seemed to sense that Bat needed some time to herself.
Or they were embarrassed by all the, um, moaning and groaning and banging that she and Mell had generated last night.
It had been a good night.
But the day had come, and her worries pushed in on her. The worst part was that there was nothing for her to do. She didn’t know anything about boats, Ciara had kicked her out of the galley, and there was no planning to do until they’d reached the island.
Not that I would actually contribute to that. She knew she was being unfair to herself and everyone else. But she’d woken this morning to an empty bunk and a surge of self-recrimination about her performance in yesterday’s meeting. For Seth’s sake, she didn’t even know what had been decided.
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