She’d intended on arriving back in their era and immediately heading out to kick some Alpha butt, however landing in their time had loaded her down with a nausea that not even Rafe’s talents had been able to appease.
Theo, being the clever bastard he was, had taken them directly to her grandparents’ home. Not because he’d wanted her to meet them before they went and faced the Alphas who’d had her shot. Not because he wanted them to see, for themselves, that she was alive and well, but because he’d known, instinctively, she’d need to rest.
Begrudgingly, she’d allowed herself to be marched to the front door. Visiting her grandparents had always been on the agenda, but only after she’d shown those fucking Alphas that they couldn’t mess with a Lyndhoven without it coming back on them threefold.
After being swaddled in Rosa’s arms for at least ten minutes, her grandfathers had insisted she be allowed to hug them. For over an hour, they’d passed her around like a doll, hugging her, not saying anything as they embraced her, just allowing conversation to swirl around them as they processed she was alive and well.
Theo had landed them back in their time the morning after the shooting had taken place. It was bizarre to think that several months had actually passed since that moment, but at least she was safe and sound. If not whole.
Her lack of a scent had taken up most of the conversation after their arrival, but she’d allowed her mates to explain the situation. Preferring to enjoy being back in the family bosom once more, and taking some time to let her nausea dispel.
She’d actually fallen asleep during that time, and that was why, hours later, she was wide awake, while her mates slumbered in their suite, and was walking to the kitchen.
Her feet made no sliver of a sound as she moved down the marble staircase toward quarters Rosa, though she had a chef, cooked in every day. Knowing there would be goodies in the refrigerator, that was her destination.
The kitchen was at the bottom end of the basement. A huge set of quarters that, while industrial in design, was softened by the huge pots of herbs Rosa had growing around the place.
There was a large table in the center of the room, which was surrounded by the units and a humming fridge that could have stored enough food for an army.
As she approached the refrigerator, an investigation into its contents about to be underway, Thalia saw someone perched atop the kitchen counter.
She didn’t look like she had the last time Thalia had seen her. All pale, creamy skin, royal blue eyes, with that horrendous hair that acted like it had muscles. No, Magda was gaunt. Her eyes haunted. Her frame close to skeletal. And her hair shorn. Shit. Magda’s hair made Cersei’s look long after she’d been paraded through the streets during her Walk of Atonement.
Though she was the last person Thalia had ever expected to see in her grandmother’s kitchen, she simply asked, “Do you want some cookie dough ice cream?”
Magda, surprised by the question, gaped at her for a second. Then, she sputtered, “Cookie dough ice cream?”
“The dough of cookies mixed with ice cream.” Thalia rolled her eyes. “The clue’s in the title, Magda. I’m not entirely sure how else to describe it.”
Magda’s mouth firmed. “I’m aware of what it means. I just didn’t exactly expect you to break bread with me.”
Thalia shrugged. “If you’d have asked me, I wouldn’t have thought so either. Then, I think about your wings, and I don’t know, any thoughts of retribution just disappear.”
Magda swallowed, her throat bobbing at Thalia’s comment.
When she didn’t say a word, however, Thalia asked, “Why do you look like that?”
“Death warmed over, you mean?”
Magda’s scorn had Thalia wincing. “Yeah. I do,” she admitted, because Magda, in complete contrast to earlier on that fucking day, looked like she could swap with Jack Skellington and make him look chubby.
“You would not believe me if I told you.”
“I would,” she replied, opening the freezer door because ice cream was no longer simply optional. It was a requisite.
Hunting it down—it was her grandmother’s vice and there were four tubs of the stuff, hallelujah—she grabbed a pint and began going through the drawers on the hunt for spoons. Finding some, she picked up two and then moved over to the table. The chair scraped against the tiles as she did and though it made her nerves protest, she ignored it and took a seat. The movement put her line of sight in perfect alignment with Magda, who’d yet to move.
Waggling a spoon at her, she murmured, “It’s not poisoned. I don’t even know if the Dark Fae eat.” And if they did, Magda really needed to pick up the habit. The current diet she was on was working too damn well.
Skin and bone was about as close to the truth as Thalia could get.
“We do,” Magda confirmed, then jumped off the counter with none of the agility that was as natural as breathing to the Fae. She seemed to hobble toward the table, and when she dragged out the chair and slumped into it, Thalia shoved the pint at her. She looked like she’d faint if she didn’t get any food into her.
“Why are you here?” she asked after the other female had taken two pathetic mouthfuls of ice cream.
“I need to speak with Theo.”
The answer had Thalia frowning. She dug down deep, raised the concoction to her mouth, and thought about her reply as she savored the taste of homemade cookie dough with homemade French Vanilla ice cream.
“Why?” was all she could think of asking.
“Because there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“There has, huh? I don’t think there’s much to misunderstand when I think about you taking me to Morningstar.”
Magda winced. “I-I had to do that. He was getting impatient.”
“Who was?”
“Morningstar.”
Thalia hummed as she ate some more ice cream. “Maybe you should start from the beginning. Like, how the last time I saw you was earlier on this evening, and you look like hell now.”
“Because it wasn’t earlier on this evening. The vortex I was thrown through took me back to 1983, just as it did you.”
“So, what? The last time you saw me was nearly forty years ago?”
Magda nodded, then swallowing hard, she reached for the container and dug deep into the mix. “It’s been a long time for me.”
“A long time for you to grow to hate me?” Thalia asked cautiously.
“What is there to hate? It isn’t your fault I’m in this position.” Magda’s mouth worked as she ate, and it was so painful to behold, Thalia looked away. The sinews of her jaw seemed to move as she sampled the ice cream. As though the skin was so fine, Thalia could see the muscles beneath.
“Is it Theo’s?”
“No. When you fly too close to the sun, you get burned,” Magda said softly, sadly. She sucked down a shuddery breath. “I need to speak with Theo,” she repeated.
“About what?”
“What Morningstar is doing. It’s worse than we ever expected.”
“In what way?” Thalia frowned. “And why were you waiting down here for me, and didn’t just find our bedroom so you could find Theo there?”
“Because it was hard enough sneaking into this place as it was. I wasn’t waiting for you, per se. I was waiting on someone to convince to guide me to your suite.”
The word ‘convince’ was uttered so sharply, it drew Thalia’s attention. “So, Theo wasn’t wrong when he said the Dark Fae entice and tempt.”
“No. We were all right about that. We just didn’t understand why.”
“Because, as I hear so often, he’s bored?”
Magda’s mouth pursed. “No. Well, he is. Yes. But his true master is Vulcun. He is not simply…” She paused, then in contemplation, tapped her spoon slightly against the table. “It is hard to explain to someone who doesn’t understand.”
“Enlighten me then. I’d like to understand. In fact, I need to.” She studied the woman a second. “Do you m
ean us any harm by being here, Magda? I guess I should have asked that first, really.”
“I mean you no harm. If I did, you’d already be hurt. We might lose most of our powers when we fall, but that doesn’t mean we lose them all and gain none.”
Thalia scowled. “Well, that’s good to know.”
Magda shrugged, and the bony protrusions of her shoulders shifted under her thin tank top. It truly was, Thalia thought, like looking at a moving skeleton.
Uneasy, she asked, “Okay, so you’re here to share information? No BS?”
“Yes.” Magda grabbed the container once more. “I didn’t mean to fall. I mean… I suppose, none of us ever do. But I was tricked. By some of the best.” Her lips quirked. “I fell for a woman and I believed she fell for me. She grew ill. I grew desperate. I-I’d been alone so long, Thalia. Theo knows how it feels. The longing for a connection. The fear of it never happening, and knowing that it most likely won’t. The years, the endless amounts of time where the universe around you changes but everything somehow stagnates too.” She shuddered. “How I long for that to be the case now.”
“What did Morningstar want from you?”
“His main goal is to tempt Fae into falling. Once they fall, they’re another soldier in his army. He needs an army because he refuses to believe there is no way back to Heden.”
“And he’s willing to fight his way back through the gates.”
“Yes. He’s tried several times over the last ten thousand years, but each time, there is a longer period between his attempts. Each one involves more Fallen.”
Thalia scowled. “How many Fae are there? It’s not like your numbers replenish.”
“Once, we were heavily populated. There were over a billion of us.”
Thalia’s eyes widened. “I had no idea there were so many of you.”
“That’s because Theo kept you sequestered in the palace.” She pursed her lips. “I still don’t understand why he did that.”
“Because he wanted to keep me safe.”
“Keeping you in the dark and keeping you safe are two separate things entirely.”
“You won’t hear me arguing,” Thalia retorted drily. “But, my arrival in Heden wasn’t exactly auspicious. And we were newly bound. I can forgive him for making mistakes, so long as he doesn’t compound them.”
“He’s a stubborn male, but a good one,” Magda told her, her gaze on the ice cream. “He will be the best of fated if you allow him to be.”
Narrowing her eyes, Thalia asked, “Why do you say that?”
“Because the females always lead the relationships, of course. Females lead everything because we blame the males for Morningstar’s actions.
“Isaura and Kane have a good relationship. She gives him his head, and he is one of the best Generals the Fae has ever seen. And we bred Alexander the Great. We know what constitutes a good General. But, when the Fae Court realized how much power she was willing to give him, and when they saw how she was willing to grant Theo her old faction, there were many whispers. Neither Kane nor Theo ever let her down either.” She winced. “Well, Theo went off the rails for a while. These two hundred years past. His refusal to return to Heden after Michelangelo’s eradication… But I kept things running in his stead. Trierna was easy to govern when Morningstar doesn’t have us in his sights.”
Thalia knew Trierna was Theo’s seat of power but she hadn’t realized how matriarchal the Fae were, even though she’d had some idea from the little Theo had told her. “I knew the Fae believed male leaders weren’t to be trusted because of Morningstar. But I didn’t know it bled into daily life.”
Magda hunched her shoulders. “It is our way. Morningstar created the deepest chasm between the Gods and us in our history. Just as the humans blame women for original sin, we blame men. But then, we know the true story. The humans don’t.” She placed the spoon down carefully on the table, but it still made a faint clink. “Allow Theo to rule at your side, and he too will do you proud.”
Because she hadn’t envisaged ruling any other way, Thalia just nodded, even though she did feel a little wide-eyed. Grabbing the container, no way near done with her cookie dough fix, Thalia asked, “Magda, what else does Morningstar do?”
“We always assumed he just made mischief. For fun. For entertainment. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done such a thing. Shakespeare was one of the largest mischief-makers of us all. Loki another. But, Morningstar was unusual. He had the power to tempt. Shakespeare could make people cry with joy, and Loki had them sobbing in fright, but Morningstar? He tempted our kind to turn our backs on our Gods.
“We should have realized he had power at his back.”
“Power from whom?”
“Vulcun.”
“The Fire God?”
“Yes.” Magda swallowed, then lifted her hands and covered her eyes. “I didn’t understand, couldn’t have understood. It was too well hidden. Too much of a secret.”
“What was?” Thalia asked gently, digging the spoon in the ice cream and shoving the container away. She reached out, cupping the bony wrists that were so fragile Thalia felt like she could break them. “Magda? Please, explain.”
She swallowed. “Each soul has weight. When we die, our souls revert to the wheel of souls. You know this, yes?”
Thalia nodded. “I-I do.”
“The wheel of souls should be neutral. Balanced. But Vulcun does not wish this. He wishes for the wheel to be unbalanced. We believed he wished to sow the seeds of chaos, but Morningstar’s purpose is to collect dark souls.”
“Collect?” Thalia asked, unease swirling inside her.
“Yes. It is a metaphor. We do nothing more than tempt, entice, convince. We make souls dark. Our purpose, and Vulcun’s end goal, is to create an imbalance in the wheel of souls.”
A shiver ran down her spine. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Do I look content with my new position in this life, Thalia?” Magda snarled. “If you, Theo, and Isaura and Kane wish it, you can bring about Morningstar’s demise and, subsequently, smite every Dark Fae in existence. Including myself. The peace of oblivion is what I seek. I have lived four decades in this manner. I do not wish to see a century in this role.”
Thalia was so tempted to tell Magda that, before her visit, bringing Morningstar down had been on her to-do list. But in the movies, women who shared that kind of shit usually found themselves dead in the first half of the film.
Thalia didn’t intend on dying for a long time yet. Not after what she’d been through today.
And though Magda seemed genuine, she’d seemed genuine to Theo. Who’d believed her as inviolate, while all along the AydLegios had been plotting to kidnap Thalia and take her to Morningstar.
This too could be a ruse.
So, instead of easing the woman’s pain as she naturally wanted to, Thalia murmured, “I will see to it that Theo learns of this information.”
Magda’s lips tightened then released. “I thank you for that. And the ice cream. It has been a while since I’ve last eaten.”
Wincing inwardly, Thalia remained silent only out of stubbornness as the woman stood, the chair gently scraping against the tile as she got to her feet.
“Do you need my help getting out?”
“No. I came in through the kitchen window.”
Thalia eyed the opening over the sink and frowned at the small aperture. Shrugging, she said, “I mean, you can go out the window if you want, but I could just open the door for you.”
Magda frowned. “You’d do this?”
“Sure.” Confused, Thalia eyed the relatively small window. Even as tiny as she was, it would be a squeeze for Magda to get through it, and hell, it wasn’t like their security hadn’t already been breached. “I mean, why would you want to go through that thing?”
Magda nodded and watched as Thalia got to her feet, then headed over to the side door entrance, which she assumed was used by tradesmen who brought deliveries to the house. There was
an internal lock that was managed by a code. They’d all received one on their first visit here and Thalia, shielding her fingers from Magda’s gaze, keyed in the number. When the door was open, she swept out a hand.
A part of her had almost expected an ambush. Other Dark Fae waiting outside as she opened the door, the poor foolish Lyken being led to her dumb fate because she was too kind for her own good, but there was no one there. Just the cicadas in the distance who whistled and called for their mates.
“Thank you,” Magda whispered, her voice choked.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, and as Magda headed out, Thalia murmured, “I-I should have asked before, Magda. But do you have a cellphone? I mean, if Theo wants to get in touch with you? I’m sure he’ll have questions.”
Magda blinked, then recited a number. Without another word, she swept on ahead, avoiding the fog lights that should flash when anyone stood under their sensor. She watched her go, then closed the door, and let out a shriek when she turned around.
“Dammit, grandfather! You scared the hell out of me.”
“And you didn’t scare me? What the fuck are you doing in the kitchen at this hour of the night?” Louis Lyndhoven, looking far more of a silver fox than he should have in his pajama bottoms and a long brass candlestick in his hand, huffed.
“What are you going to do with that? Brain me?” she retorted with a grin, pointing at the candlestick, and even as she grinned, she wanted to sigh as Magda’s number slipped from her mind.
“I would have if you weren’t you,” he answered grimly. “What are you doing up anyway?”
“Cookie dough ice cream.”
Because Louis was mated to Rosa, he merely rolled his eyes. That, after all, explained everything. “But I heard you talking to someone.”
“Because I was.” She slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him. “You know you’re way too good-looking to be my granddad, right?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he grumbled.
“Didn’t think so,” she murmured, her grin widening even as she darted back to the table. “You want some?”
“Of course.”
She held out her spoon, which he took. After swallowing, he asked, “Who were you talking to?”
Triumph Page 7