Dean walked over and carefully set the pie in front of me before silently backing away.
Ashley smiled brightly as she placed a reassuring hand on Gunnar’s lower back, urging him forward. Gunnar finally took a deep breath and walked over to me, holding the sword hilt-out.
“Can you please cut into the pie, Nate?” he asked in a low growl.
I blinked, accepting the hilt of the sword more out of awkwardness than any commitment.
“Um…we have cake knives—”
He leaned in closer, his lone eye practically on fire as he murmured a phrase. “Defiance.”
Defiance, as in Chateau Defiance? Our old treehouse? That had been code for us to simply not ask questions, be entirely honest, and do the damned thing.
And I followed our code, come hell or high water.
“Of course, Gunnar.” If he wanted me to cut a damned pie with a damned sword, I would cut the damned pie with a damned sword.
I stood, dramatically touched the blade to my head and closed my eyes, and then I carefully lowered it to cut into the pie, not wanting to destroy whatever was inside. Maybe they had gotten me a puppy or something.
The sword cut a straight line from the center to the edge, but nothing jumped out at me. Gunnar scowled, practically shaking as he motioned for me to cut out a piece of the pie, not just a line. I did and scooped up the slice with my sword.
A cascade of blue and pink M&M’s poured out of the pastry, spilling down and off the table, revealing that all I held on my sword was a hollow, dry crust.
I frowned. That was odd. Who baked a pie with M&M’s? And why hadn’t they melted in the oven? There was a mystery here somewhere…
Someone gasped, and others began to squeal and laugh and clap as I frowned at the pie.
Gunnar, like a puppet with cut strings, abruptly collapsed as his legs gave out. He head-butted the table—the hard-as-iron wooden table—on the way down, crunching a few M&M’s in the process, before sliding to the floor like a limp noodle, entirely unconscious.
I dropped the sword instinctively, and the heavy hilt struck him in the groin before toppling to the side.
He lurched back up with a reedy gasp at the groin blow and head-butted the table again with a thump that made me wince as it shook the table and spilled more M&M’s from the curious pie. This time he was knocked out for good.
Everyone began shouting and yelling—at me.
But I had absolutely no idea what had just happened. Was the sword supposed to be symbolic of something? Me being King of St. Louis? And why the hell had Gunnar collapsed? He hadn’t done anything worthy of that response. This was my mystery, my moment. Some obscure gift to Master Temple, King of St. Louis.
I nudged Gunnar with my boot, watching as more M&M’s fell from the table onto his chest and burrowed into his beard, but he didn’t stir. I turned to Ashley. “I think your husband just died, and I don’t entirely understand why.” I mumbled before kneeling down beside him. “And he’s probably going to need the coldest ice-pack we can find. That sword was pretty heavy.”
Chapter 9
I patted Gunnar’s cheeks a few times, but he still didn’t wake. So I slapped him—this time with as much force as I could muster. Gunnar jolted awake with a gasp, gripping my arm and staring at me with one crazy eyeball.
Ashley was suddenly kneeling beside him, her face a mess of running mascara as she laughed and cried and squeezed his bearded face, kissing him about a gazillion times.
Tory grabbed me by the scruff of the shirt with one hand and yanked me to my feet, so Ashley could apparently molest my best friend. Tory then pointed down at the pile of M&M’s on the table. She was also crying happily. I shot a look towards Talon, but he simply shrugged and went back to eating his meal, not even having bothered to get up since I wasn’t in any danger.
“Twins, you fucking imbecile,” Tory hissed into my ear. “Pink and blue. They’re having a baby boy and baby girl!”
I heard a fizzing and popping sound in my ears, followed by crackling static.
Then I, too, was suddenly lying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, bewildered.
Talon and Tory were staring down at me from inches away, looking concerned. Well, Talon looked concerned. Tory looked satisfied at my current situation. “Men,” she huffed, climbing back to her feet and storming away.
“Wylde, are you okay?” Talon whispered carefully.
I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Nothing to do with that. Just…I’m suddenly really stressed out,” I mumbled, abruptly remembering what had caused me to fall down. Twins…
Talon frowned. “Why?” Then his eyes widened, and he shielded me from view, leaning closer. “Please tell me those are not your children.”
“What?” I shouted. “No! Jesus, Talon!” I hissed, hoping no one had heard him.
He frowned, leaning back. “Then I don’t understand. Why would you be stressed out?”
A big meaty hand suddenly shoved Talon to the side and yanked me to my feet without any noticeable effort. Gunnar stared at me from inches away, looking both excited and sick to his stomach. He had two massive red welts on his forehead. “What do I do?” he whispered.
Seeing my best friend more stressed than I felt, somehow helped to calm me down. “Hell, man. Why are you asking me? I almost had a panic attack even hearing it.”
Gunnar smiled crookedly, but I saw the terrified gleam in his lone eye. “I’ve never felt like this. I feel violent enough to go destroy something—to protect Ashley from even a hint of a threat! But I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy before either. Or so terrified. How is that even possible?” He grabbed my shirt and yanked me close again. “What do I do with my face?” he hissed, pointing at the bizarre expression he was making, which really did look like a Frankenstein mix of emotion.
“Try to make it look happier,” I suggested, shrugging.
Alex and Yahn sauntered over, congratulating Gunnar, but immediately blanched at the bizarre look on the soon-to-be-dad’s face. “Are you concussed, and stuff?” Yahn asked. “You hit that table pretty hard, yah?”
“I’ve never felt better,” Gunnar growled angrily.
“Maybe you should inform your face of that,” Yahn suggested, chuckling.
I quickly shoved him out of harm’s way and into Alex right before Gunnar swiped at him with a werewolf claw. Gunnar froze, staring down at his claw in horror. “I…I’m sorry, Yahn,” he stammered.
Yahn’s eyes were wide—not with fear, but with utter bewilderment. “Toe-tah-lee fine,” he finally grumbled in a much less jovial tone.
“Let’s go take a walk, Yahn. Let them talk for a minute,” Alex suggested, guiding Yahn away.
The women were all bubbling with overflowing joy as they laughed with Ashley, taking turns touching her belly and playing with her hair. The sound was deafening to my ears, all high-pitched coos and exclamations of some strange language while Gunnar and I were over here freaking the hell out.
I shot Gunnar a weak grin. “You’ll do great—”
“Oh, the hell with that,” he snarled over the loud sounds of the shrieking women. Then he picked up a wine glass and slammed it on the table, loud enough to cut all conversation like he had pulled a fire alarm. Dean was openly smiling, which absolutely caught me off guard. He would have skinned me alive for purposely breaking a glass. And he never smiled like that.
“I want to make an announcement!” Gunnar bellowed, even though the conversation had instantly ceased. “I’m sorry I made a mess of this. I don’t quite know how to explain it, but I can say from the bottom of my heart that I have never been so happy…” he said, lowering his head apologetically. He was crying, now. “I’m so happy that I’m terrified I won’t do a good job,” he admitted. Someone on Team Female began to sob, and like a flicked domino, they were soon all snuffling and crying, but I couldn’t see Ashley through their defensive ring.
Gunnar turned to me in an almost aggressive manner. “Which is why I want to personally than
k Nate for offering to become the Godfather to my children.” My face went entirely slack. I’d done what? That bit must have happened when I was unconscious. Gunnar continued, and I fought to keep my face calm against the internal horror at such a responsibility. “Figuratively speaking, of course. I would expect nothing less from my best friend, but I’m honored by his choice.” Then Gunnar bowed and smiled at everyone. “I think I need some fresh air. Or a drink.”
Ashley emerged from within her defensive ring to grab him on the way by and give him a very passionate kiss. “You’ll be exceptional, Wulfric. Your only competition is yourself, and because you’re such a great man, you’re terrified to look in the mirror at your opponent. Because that is the only time you get to see what everyone else already sees. And it scares you to go up against such a formidable man on a daily basis. This is the height of greatness,” she whispered, loud enough so that only we heard it.
Gunnar closed his eye and set his forehead against his wife’s, kissing her on the nose and holding the back of her head like it was a lifeline in a turbulent sea. Amazingly enough, I watched his entire body slowly relax. He opened his eye and smiled at her. “You’re wrong, woman. I see greatness every time I roll over in the morning,” he whispered back.
And her face split into such a wide grin that I feared they were about to try making triplets on the dining table.
Ashley, sensing my discomfort, nipped back at Gunnar’s nose, shoved him towards me, and then slapped him on the ass. “Go, my Kings. You two could use a drink.”
She didn’t have to tell us twice. We headed for the nearest booze-station a few rooms down from the kitchen in one of the sitting parlors. I knew we had some of the nice Macallan stashed there.
I poured us each a liberal splash and we sat down in separate chairs with matching sighs of relief. We clinked glasses and downed them, saying nothing for a few minutes, regaining composure. I chose not to tell Gunnar that he still had a couple M&M’s stuck in his beard—one pink and one blue, coincidentally. I spotted Talon just outside in the hall, but he chose to give us privacy, likely keeping an eye out for any intruders so we could talk in peace.
“I would have offered if I would have known you wanted me to,” I finally told him.
“I know. That’s why I announced it. Also…I want you to hold me accountable for being a good dad. You’re the one who actually had a decent father. Despite his faults, Calvin was a great man.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Except for all the lying.”
Gunnar slowly turned to look at me, his stone eyepatch glinting in the fire’s glow. “He gave me a home, Nate…a family.”
My anger flickered out and died at the intensity of his glare. “I know. It’s just…he lied to me about a lot of things. And not little things. He literally chose to lie about half of my entire life, and that lie is messing with my head right now, threatening to actually make me go crazy.”
Gunnar nodded, refilling our drinks. “And his first order of business, after making what had to be the toughest decision of his life, was to make sure you had another ally like Talon. Someone to help keep you grounded, and subconsciously remind you of Fae. In effect, that act of compassion gave me a home. You might say he harmed you, but if he hadn’t harmed you, I wouldn’t fucking be here, and you wouldn’t have me as an ally. I would never have met Ashley. Never have become a father…”
I downed my drink guiltily. “I’m sorry, Gunnar. I’m…not myself right now.”
He snorted loudly. “Did you not see me in there? I still can’t make my face work!”
I smiled. “Dude…you hit your head so hard. Twice!” I shook my head in amazement. “It was unbelievable. I felt it in my stomach.” I found my smile stretching wider as I thought about him hitting his head once for each of his two future pups. But I didn’t voice that.
Gunnar burst out laughing, spilling his drink. He shifted in his seat almost uncomfortably. Finally, he set the glass down and leaned his elbows on his knees, shaking his head. “Wait. Twice?” he asked, frowning in confusion.
I told him about the sword hilt and his jaws dropped open.
“That’s why my balls hurt! That thing weighed at least ten pounds!”
We bantered back and forth after that, and I told him about thinking the pie had been for me. Some royal gesture. He could hardly breathe through his laughter.
I found myself idly playing with my new title. Godfather…
I’d have to find a book or something, because the only reference I had on that was a trilogy of movies, and they were likely not what Gunnar had in mind. Then again…I’d kind of done a lot of Godfather-like things in recent years. Becoming the King—Don—of St. Louis and taking down my foes with extreme prejudice.
I had a while to think on that future migraine. And tonight wasn’t the night for it. Because I suddenly remembered that I had invited Gunnar to go with me to Fae tomorrow.
Well, shit.
Chapter 10
We had joked around for thirty minutes or so and drank enough to marginally calm our nerves. Gunnar had made me promise to take him to Fae about a dozen times, arguing that he really needed some violence, or he was liable to do something stupid here in town. He needed an outlet for the storm of emotions within his heart.
The big bad wolf of St. Louis was going to be a daddy.
I had finally agreed to stick with the plan. He was the most loyal person I knew besides Talon, and in a way, it felt poetic to include my two oldest friends on this enlightenment journey I was about to take. Because I had spent a childhood with each of them—and they were both bitter about that, possessive on who had been the better friend. Maybe this would bring them closer together. Let them realize that they weren’t all that different from each other.
Or they would try to kill each other. I had forced that unhelpful thought away, promising that at the first sign of danger, I would get them the fuck out of Fae, or get them away from each other if that was the case. Because I had two new reasons to keep Gunnar safe.
Twins. I shook my head at the thought. Poor, lucky bastard.
Having a plan, I felt much better as I walked through the halls of Chateau Falco. Gunnar had gone off in search of Ashley to tell her we were headed out to the bar to celebrate and tell Achilles the big news.
I doubted he planned on mentioning Anubis, but that was my own problem to deal with, and really had nothing to do with Gunnar or anyone else.
Unfortunately, it was a requirement for me. If I skipped off to Fae without telling him, he was liable to revoke our agreement and drag me kicking and screaming down to Hell to become his permanent live-in guide. So, I needed to convince him that I had a plan.
It should be noted that I did not, in fact, have a plan. Not really. A crayon drawing would have been more professional than what I currently had: smuggle some banished Fae, meet new friends, kill or spy on Mordred.
I spotted Alvara leaning against a wall by herself, suspiciously peering around a corner, but I could hear laughter from the room she spied on. She heard me approaching and made no move to conceal her actions, but she did turn to face me. I glanced past her shoulder to see Talon showing Alice how to grip his spear properly for a fight. But he kept making it disappear on her, and then giving her a mock frown as he told her she must be doing something wrong.
Her indignant squawks denied the allegations. Rinse and repeat with increasing volume.
I smiled, proud to see Talon venturing out of his element and nailing it. He’d just become the default babysitter if we needed it in Fae, but I would wait to tell him about that promotion. I turned back to Alvara. “You two need anything?” I asked. “We’re heading out for a little while to celebrate.”
“Just assurances,” she said, sighing.
I frowned. “About?”
“We’re not welcome in Fae, and I’m scared to put her in danger,” she whispered.
I’d already chased that ball of yarn in my own head and was pretty sure Alvara just needed to talk it out
with someone. “She doesn’t have to go. Dean could look after her here—”
“No,” she said adamantly. “She’s going. I don’t want to leave her.” She saw the puzzled look on my face and smiled in embarrassment. “Thank you for the offer, but if I walked in there right now and told her—the night before we are to leave—that she can’t go…” she shuddered.
Which was the exact conclusion I had come to, but I pretended it was the first time I’d thought about it. Alvara was raising Alice all on her own, and I bet it could be a lonely, thankless job at times. “Yeah, I can imagine. But you two will be safe with us. You have me, Talon, Gunnar, and maybe even a few other friends once we get there. We’ll be fine. We won’t be looking for danger.”
She nodded, but her eyes seemed far away. “Answers are the second most dangerous thing in the world.”
“What’s the first?”
She met my eyes seriously. “Questions.”
I sighed, nodding my agreement. “I need this, Alvara. Most of what I’ve been told by others my entire life has either been a lie or barely a half-truth, so I’m seeking my own answers. And you promised to help me. I’m not kidnapping you. This was your idea.”
“I know, I know. I’m not backing out, just voicing my concerns. It’s just…I fear what you will do when you find the answers you seek. Maybe your parents lied for a very good reason.”
I frowned at her. “I would never hurt you, Alvara. If you’re afraid of that, I’ll make it very easy for you. Tell me where your friend is, and I will visit her myself. You’ll be safe here. Both of you. Remember that Baba Yaga and Callie Penrose said you could trust me,” I reminded her.
She shook her head firmly. “I live by my word. We had an agreement. There is no option for me to back out.” She pulled me by the hand to move further away from the room where Talon and Alice played—close enough to still see but not be overheard. “Answers are not always what we truly seek. The fruit of honesty often sours on the tongue. Sometimes, a lie, especially one of omission, is best.”
Legend Page 5