Into The Spirit

by Marie Harte

  “You almost died in that alley, Tabithia. I had your blood on my hands, and there was nothing for me to do to save you. I have no gifts. I can’t heal. I can’t fight a mage with a spell. I won’t allow you near a battle again and chance losing you. Even now, you could carry my child.”

  Each word felt like a blow, a sharp snap of a hammer on a coffin he was nailing down around her. She fought for breath. His brow drew down and the intensity in his dark eyes pinned her in place.

  “You are my bonded. I’ve held back from the words to bind us, but I won’t any longer. You are mine. Mine alone. I won’t chance our lives on your ability.”

  Her mind came to a full stop. Thoughts swirled so fast she could feel the room spinning. He didn’t trust her ability. Her. He didn’t trust her.

  “No, I don’t trust you, Tabithia. I don’t trust you not to harm yourself. I can’t leave you. I fear if I do you’ll harm yourself. Nothing, no one will harm you again, sweetheart, not even you.”

  He drew his button-down shirt aside and pulled out the pendant she thought he’d got rid of. A chill swept over her skin.

  “You knew. I knew you did. But you’ve not spoken of it.” Her voice came out so low, so softly she sounded hoarse. Her throat was dry, suddenly dusty and painful.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you further, sweetheart.” His handsome face creased in a pained expression and he nodded, to whom she had no idea. “I’ll take care of it. Of you. You’ll be safe. I’ll make all the pain go away, all the reasons you had to endure it disappear. I’ll order you to forget, to not harm yourself, to be happy.”

  She stumbled back from the look on his face. He was serious. Deadly serious. All this time, these past few days, she’d seen him watching her, his dark eyes intense, his expression thoughtful, pensive. Was this his answer?

  Her heart hammered so hard her blood sang loudly in her ears. She fisted her hands to try to tamp down the rage spilling up, flooding her, but he opened his mouth, his hand on the pendant, holding it tightly, and she knew he was about to speak. Her hands flew up and power radiated from her like a homing beacon bursting through his kitchen and hitting the walls like a gong. The cabinets flew open and dishes crashed through the air to hit the walls and floor. The house groaned. The windows burst in on them and still she fought the power raging through her. How dare he?

  She must have spoken aloud, for distantly she heard him yell her name. She fought to open her eyes past the power flooding her. Slowly, with every ounce of strength she could muster, she saw him again. He fought to stand upright, his face a hard mask of disbelief.

  “You think to cage me? To imprison me! You don’t trust my ability? My strength? I can destroy this mountain with a thought. I can call down lightning with the wave of my hand.”

  “Tabithia! Stop this. Stop this now!”

  She laughed and threw her head back. His orders. Did she stop? Hell, no. She waved her hand. Lightning tore through the kitchen and the stove burst into flames. She caught the fire in her palm, tossing it as the wind blew through the room. In the distance, she heard a wolf howl, answering her summons. All of nature answered her summons, and he doubted her?

  Aeros stood his ground, his eyes only narrowing when his order went unheeded. She motioned, and the pendant flew to her palm.

  “I’m thinking it had a limited warranty, Sparkie.”

  “It had served its purpose.”

  The kitchen and all the flying debris disappeared and suddenly she stood with Aeros in a glen. The complete, utter stillness in the air hit her like a soft blow to the face. She blinked rapidly, and suddenly Aeros closed the distance between them and pulled her protectively into his chest. Moist woodland air flowed over her face, and she struggled to push him away enough to turn in his arms.

  “Daughter. Your temper tantrum is not necessary. Aeros must come to terms with your power. You must give him more time.” Bridget the warrior spoke, but the eldest version of her goddess nodded in agreement, a stern look on her face.

  “Sonofab—”

  She jabbed Aeros in the stomach with her elbow, more than a bit satisfied at his whoosh of air.

  “‘Tis all right, Tabithia, if he is startled. You have taught him a lesson, I am certain.” The youngest of the three walked towards them, and she felt Aeros’ arm tighten around her. She thought maybe he trembled a bit.

  “Aeros, meet my goddess, Bridget, in all her forms.”

  He swallowed noisily behind her, and she chanced a glance at his face. He had blood on his cheek and his eyes were strained, the weathered wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes tight with tension.

  “Tabithia—”

  She halted his apology with her fingers. “You’re sorry. I know. Don’t do that again, Aeros. Not trust me. We need to talk…” She paused uncomfortably. “I’m sorry I’m so screwed up. I…”

  “You are not screwed up. Damn it, I don’t want you thinking that. Tabithia, look at me,” he demanded when she looked down at her hands. He tipped her head up and met her eyes with a look that melted her. “I love you. I love you and didn’t want to see you suffer any longer. I wanted to help.” He grimaced and shook his head. “I rushed in, when I should have held back, waited—”

  “Aeros, I’m not a battle.”

  A smile softened his lips ever so lightly. His brow rose, and her stomach bottomed out. He melted every inch of her with that look.

  “Oh? Baby, you scare the hell out of me more than any other battle I’ve ever fought.”

  “Sweet. A summons by the Three and I find you, my missing captain, and your little witch. Ladies.”

  They both tensed at the sound of Ares’ voice, but when Tabithia glanced over, the god of war looked nothing like the powerful deity she’d faced before. He looked unshaven, rumpled and dressed in a dark T-shirt and dirty jeans with black shit-kickers on his feet. Heck, he looked grungy.

  “Ares, you are welcome to our home. But you must show more respect,” the eldest goddess scolded him with a censorious look and took a seat on a high-backed wooden chair that appeared behind her. She waved her hand and a table with more chairs appeared. “Sit. Join us in this discussion.”

  “Discussion?” Tabithia murmured, meeting Aeros’ worried frown.

  “Yes, sit. All of you. We are expecting one other, but she will arrive soon.”

  Dare?

  Aeros pulled her close and whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

  He looked so distressed she hugged his arm to her chest and pulled him down to sit next to her. She took his hand in hers and brushed a kiss to his jaw.

  “I think it’s okay.”

  Ares snorted, ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and pulled out a chair to sit. He sighed heavily as soon as he eased down in the chair. He looked like hell.

  “You look like you’ve had a tough time, Ares.”

  Bridget popped her boots up on the table and crossed her bow over her thighs. Leaning back, she stared down the table at Ares. He frowned and, for once, didn’t spout nonsense. Maybe Dare was getting to him. But what had he been up to? He looked like he’d been working as an auto mechanic.

  “I’ve been forced to live here”—he waved a hand around them, then grimaced—“On Earth for days now. Dare won’t see me. Alone. She is dancing”—he growled the word at them—“for men, and I’m forced to do nothing.”

  He shouted the last words before he sank back, looking exhausted. Glowering at her, then Aeros, then the Three, he huffed something and looked away. His powerful frame tensed, and he jerked up two seconds later when Dare popped in across the table from him. She wore a soft white dress, with little pink rosettes around the low, plunging neckline. She would have made Marilyn Monroe envious.

  Tabithia grinned and caught Aeros’ worried look.

  “Why don’t we have popcorn?” she whispered when he leaned closer.

  Dare met Ares’ glower with a small frown but turned and bowed to the Three. “You called.”

  They called? Did they
often call?

  “Yes, come. Sit.” The eldest motioned to the table and smiled over at Dare like her long-lost daughter had come for a visit.

  A chair, similar to the ones already around the table, appeared next to Tabithia, and Dare walked over, smiling at her before she sat.

  “You look like you’ve survived your battle,” Dare whispered.

  Tabithia was tempted to ask which one, but Aeros sitting so close, and the gods surrounding her, had her biting her inner cheek instead.

  “‘Tis good. Now, Ares. You have wronged our daughter, stolen her from us when her spirit could have been aiding her sisters. For this, we agree with her demands. And yet, we do not wish for your death. Nor that of your Spartans.”

  Bridget, the eldest, broke off when Ares sat forward, appearing ready to strangle on his words.

  “Aided her sisters? She nearly died aiding her sisters. I found her nearly dead, trying to crawl back to a battle my Spartans would not have been able to win! Her arm was broken, crushed, her ribs cracked, her very life leaving her. If not for me? She’d have died on that battlefield.” He stood up, toppling his chair, and glared at the women, both powerful fists coming down hard on the table. “I saved her. Me! She was mine from that moment on. Not yours. You dare to claim her now? After forsaking her?”

  Dare stood, as well, clearly shocked by Ares’ words. “Ares! How could you! You mustn’t bellow in such a way. ‘Tis no’ right. My goddess did not forsake me. I was a coward, too afraid to stand and fight.”

  “You little fool! You were almost dead and still wanted back on that field. I’ve never seen such bravery, never seen a human, witch or otherwise, fight with such bravery, you silly woman.”

  Ares brought his fist down on the table again, and a crack appeared in the surface, widening until the poor table toppled to the ground, cleaved in two.

  “I will not suffer them to have you, nor my brother.” He took a breath and Dare screeched—like a banshee but much, much louder.

  “I never, never wanted your brother, you stupid man!”

  The silence after her scream was almost peaceful except for Aeros’ tense grip on Tabithia’s arm, and the breathless couple facing each other. Dare’s bangs had fallen in her eyes, and she was fisting her hands so tight her small body shook. Ares simply stood as if someone had knocked him in the head. Bridget had her bow up and out of the way, her feet firmly on the turf at her feet. The littlest one covered her mouth with her small hand and met the eldest’s stern look with a giggle.

  “Well, that is finally done.” Bridget, the fighter, stood and hooked her bow over her shoulder, grimacing at the two lovers, and shook her head. “I would never have believed two people could be so stubborn, but you two have proven to be made for each other. Stubborn and hard-headed.”

  Dare startled a glance at Bridget and slowly her cheeks flushed. “I—”

  “I knew you didn’t accept him. I thought you wanted him, though, and I apologise for not trusting you,” Ares murmured.

  Every eye in the glen landed on him. He’d somehow cleaned up, even put on his war gear, with his studded wristbands, and broad sword at his side. He glowed, slightly golden around the eyes. His power was back on.

  Dare glanced down, fidgeting with her hands. “You are forgiven.”

  Ares closed the distance between them and took her hands and brought them to his lips. “You are my dancer now,” he murmured then they were gone.

  “Holy hell…” Tabithia said.

  She glanced up at Aeros, and he looked just as amazed as she felt. Dare and Ares. Together. Ten years, huh? So much for the grovelling.

  “She punished him by simply being out of reach, Tabithia. Even in his home, he couldn’t bear to touch her. His worries, inability to trust her, created a rift he couldn’t repair.”

  “But was she his godhead? I mean, what of us? Of Aeros, I mean.” She felt Aeros lift his arm, and he pulled her close to his side.

  “Aeros is still in danger.”

  The new, unwelcome female voice set Tabithia’s teeth on edge. Artemis walked into view, her two fawns at her heels, the viper missing from her neck. This time, though, her clothing appeared nearly see-through. Tabithia narrowed her eyes at the woman’s chest. She could see her nipples. What the hell? The other woman—goddess, whatever—bugged Tabithia.

  “I warned you before, Tabithia, you must save him.”

  Aeros reacted to the threat in the goddess’s tone by moving Tab closer, clearly not liking Artemis either.

  “Why are you here, Artemis?” Bridget the eldest called. The frown she wore was reflected on all three of her faces.

  “We did not ask you to interfere,” the warrior Bridget added. She loosened her bow from her shoulder and settled one end in the turf at her feet.

  Artemis tossed her head and dismissed both goddesses to focus on Aeros with an intensity that bothered Tabithia on a level that had her nearly growling. Thankfully, Aeros didn’t appear impressed with the scantily clad goddess.

  “Ah, you are here for him. You think that he will recall you.” The youngest goddess tilted her head, her childlike face full of wonder. “But you must know his heart, his very soul is Tabithia’s.”

  “It is?” Tabithia blurted before she could still the thought.

  Aeros tipped her head up, and his gaze was charged with his emotions. “Always. Always.” He bent until all she could see was his face, his dark eyes shot through with love. Their lips met in a tender kiss just once before he pulled up. “With this breath I bind you—”

  “No!” Artemis’ scream burst Tabithia’s eardrums. Tabithia stumbled back, but Aeros tugged her wrist and planted her against his chest. He tightened his embrace, crushing her to him as he fought to stand under an onslaught of wind and flying debris.

  “Enough!” The three voices mingled into one long, low sound. It grew until the pain in Tabithia’s ear subsided and slowly dimmed as the syllables faded.

  Blinking her eyes open, she caught hold of Aeros and tried to calm her racing heart. She felt like someone had shoved wood through her body, making her movements stiff and alarmingly slow. “Aeros?”

  “You’re safe. I have you,” he whispered against her face, his deep voice full of something she’d not heard before. One look in his dark expression, and she saw the rage, utter, unblinking rage in his expression. Fear hit her hard, like a cold splash of water. He couldn’t fight a goddess and win.

  “Don’t. For me. Don’t.”

  He gazed at her for a long, intense moment before his face relaxed slightly and he nodded stiffly. She sucked in a breath and brushed her arm over her eyes. Damn, she was crying all the time.

  “Don’t you remember, Aeros? Don’t you remember how I saved you? How you pledged your life to me? To me, not Ares. How I saved your life and that of your friend? I am yours. You wanted me. You just need to remember and leave this Celtic witch. She is blinding you, she must be. She’s spelled you into thinking you are hers.”

  Aeros frowned at the goddess. Clearly he didn’t remember anything of what she said. “My life in Sparta was over centuries before. I don’t remember you saving me, nor anyone, Artemis.”

  She wailed, and the fawns bolted from her side. “I was there for you. Always. I waited for you. For you to come to me, for your time with Ares to be over. But you turned to this little whore instead? A broken, pathetic woman who would never be able to satisfy you as I can?”

  Aeros sucked in a breath at the word whore. His body turned to steel the more the crazy goddess spoke, but when the witch threw Tabithia’s past out at them, even showing her cutting herself, Tab had enough. Something inside snapped.

  “What the hell!” She broke away from Aeros and stood, fists clenched, power filling her as she faced the witch. “You little whore. How dare you? I’ve lived and you’ve what? Read books? Played with your damn animals and men’s lives, it would seem! Where were you all these centuries, getting a manicure? If you wanted Aeros, you should have stepped up to the
plate, chica. It’s too late to call foul ball now. He’s mine and no one, not Ares, not you, will take him from me. Got it?”

  She added a blast of power on the last and shoved the goddess back against the nearest tree, about three hundred feet away. Holding her there, she made sure the little goddess could hear every word she said.

  “And if I catch you near me or near Aeros again? I’ll let him kick your ass.”

  Aeros stood next to her and chuckled. “Damn straight, baby. Now let up on the goddess, so she can leave.”

  “As long as she doesn’t come back.”

  Artemis fell to the forest floor, gasping and holding her throat. She struggled up and glared at them both. Head up, she straightened her robes and gradually drew closer. Tab kept her power ready, and Aeros, her man, brought his sword up.

  “You heard her, Artemis. Tabithia is mine. And I am hers. Always hers.”

  Making a nasty face, the goddess sniffed and glared at them, then over at the Three. “This is your fault.”

  “Nay, ‘tis your fault. Aeros was always made for Tabithia, just as Tabithia was meant to give him enough strength to want to live. They are parts to the same whole, Greek. Best remember that.”

  “If you ever want to, you know, break the mood again,” the warrior Bridget muttered. “Now, go. We have a ceremony to perform.”

  With another dirty look, Artemis spun and disappeared in a flash of light. What an actress. Tabithia rolled her eyes at the youngest Bridget, and the child smiled over at her.

  “You kick ass when you wish, little witch,” Bridget called, tugging her bow out of sight again. “I worried for a bit there, with the little cutting scene, but you have closed the page on that part of your life. Aeros will heal you, as you will heal him, I believe. But maybe work on the temper, eh? And maybe work on trusting your instinct more, Aeros and Tabithia.”

  “Aye,” Aeros murmured and captured Tabithia for a big hug. “I am sorry, Tabithia for not telling you I knew and for not telling you my fears.”

  “Oh, Aeros, I’m sorry too. I wanted to tell you, to talk about it with you, but after the alley, and your home, it just never felt like the right time, and it was such a good time. I think”—she broke off and took a deep, stress-free breath—“I think maybe Bridget is right. That part of my life has changed. Let’s just say you and Trouble have given me something more to fill it.”