by Montana Ash
Clearing her throat, Dana straightened her spine, “You know, I think I will talk to him. Thank you for your suggestion.” A series of snickers and rude snorts met her ears, making her smile.
“My lady, we will accompany you,” Tobias offered her his arm, every bit the charming gentleman.
Dana waggled her finger at him even as she accepted his arm. “That babyface and charming smile do not fool me, Tobias.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” he grinned down at her.
Aiden took up position on her other side and they led her from the house to the large building that housed the gym and indoor pool. “You know exactly what I mean. You are a lady’s man. But you will not trap me.”
“I’m not trying to. My liege did that fifty years ago,” came Tobias’s reply.
Dana stopped walking. “He did no such thing. I trapped him.”
Tobias shook his head, gently pulling her along once more. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Dana frowned but said no more. She was becoming increasingly nervous as the knights led her to speak to the man she hadn’t had a real conversation with since making a baby with him. And isn’t that ludicrous? Dana thought to herself. Touching her unbound hair, she wondered if she looked okay. Glancing down, she then fingered the material of her emerald green blouse before smoothing her hands over her dark jeans. She had chosen the outfit because it was so different from what she usually wore in Otherworld. There, she was known to wear flowing gowns and robes and go barefoot. Yes, it was a little cliché, but it was also very comfortable and practical. On this side though, she could admit to liking the trend that was skinny jeans or leggings and loose, flowing shirts. As such, whenever she could, she crafted such clothes in varying colours and designs. One of the habits she brought with her from Otherworld, however, was going barefoot. She had a mental need, as well as a physical one, to be close to nature. Having some part of her skin being in contact with nature at all times fulfilled that need. Even as she walked, she could feel the heartbeat of the earth beneath her feet, and it gave her courage as well as comfort.
“You look great,” Aiden said, presently.
“I’m sorry, what?” Dana asked.
Aiden gestured to where she was still tugging on her shirt. “Your clothes; they’re fine. More than fine. That green brings out your eyes and those jeans make your legs look impossibly long – even though you’re a short-shit like Max.” He winked when he said the last part. “You look beautiful.”
“Oh, well … I … thank you,” she stuttered, feeling flustered.
Aidan laughed, the sound rich. “You really have no idea how appealing you are, do you? It’s one of the things that drew Mordecai to you in that bar all those years ago.”
Dana was unsure how to respond to that, because no – she had no idea how appealing she was as a woman because she had never had the opportunity to just be a woman. Other than for a few short hours long ago, that was. Shaking off her thoughts, she shored up her courage and was about to open the door to the gym when Aiden spoke once more.
“Dana …” Aiden began, waiting for her to pause and look at him. “Don’t let him heap all the blame on you, okay? He is a grown-arse man who has been making his own decisions – as well as his own successes and failures – for hundreds of years. His choice was his alone. You did not make him do anything. Remember that.”
Dana drew in a deep breath, “I shall try.”
Aiden nodded and Tobias added, “Oh, and Dana? Feel free to remind him of that fact too, huh?”
Dana cast them a wry look. “I may be the Great Mother, but even I cannot combat male stubbornness.”
She heard them laughing as they followed her at a discreet distance, stopping with the other two members of their Order off to the side. Dana continued on, but soon found herself rooted to the spot when her eyes landed on Mordecai. He was stripped from the waist up, his muscled torso glistening with sweat as he beat the living hell out of a punching bag. Thankfully, he was wearing boxing gloves, otherwise she was sure his knuckles would have been torn to shreds due to the force he was exerting. Although the motivations behind his frenetic movements were troubling, Dana could not deny the result was pleasing.
“Are you just here to watch the show? Or did you have something to say?” Mordecai asked, pausing in his punches but not turning around.
Dana kept her mouth shut, wanting to see his face when they had their first real conversation. The stubborn man kept his back to her, shaking his head and muttering to himself when she continued to stand in silence. His back expanded as he dragged in a couple of deep breaths and Dana found her eyes tracking several rivulets of sweat as they ran down his spine and into the waistband of his low-riding trackpants. Her eyes were the only part of her that moved when he abruptly spun around and she found herself following the dark line of hair that sprouted from his groin and made a delightful path up to his bellybutton. His corrugated stomach moved in time with his still harsh breathing and his pecs flexed as he shook out his arms and hands. Overall, Dana thought – mouth completely dry – Mordecai was supremely male.
Mordecai must have realised the direction of her thoughts because he became still, those cold green eyes narrowing on her even as tension began to rise – and not the usual kind that was present between them. No, this was a sexual tension. It was lust, desire – and any other word that could be used to describe the fact that Dana wanted to scratch him up. And maybe bite him a little too, she mused, her mouth kicking up at the corners. Mordecai’s frown deepened and he swore, marching over to a bench where he hastily pulled on his discarded shirt. To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. So, instead of starting the conversation in a mature way that could lead to a thoughtful discussion, she blurted out; “I do not know why you are bothering with a shirt. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Mordecai’s mouth lifted in a sneer. “One night with me fifty years ago isn’t enough for you to know anything about my body, oh Great Mother. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“And you suppose I’m referring to that night? And not all the nights since then?” Dana baited.
Mordecai strode over, his long legs eating up the distance in seconds. “So, you admit to spying on me? I knew it! I knew I could feel eyes on me! Have you been watching me all these years? Like some kind of goddess-pervert?”
Dana winced internally. She really should have known better than to tease a wild animal. Yes, she had been spying on him – for a very long time. But no, she really did not want him to think she was some kind of creeper who watched him when he showered … or dressed … or sometimes pleasured himself. Dana groaned out loud, dropping her head into her hands, by the gods. I really am a pervert!
“Dana, are you listening to me?” Mordecai demanded.
Dana raised her head. “My apologies, Warden. I should not have said that. I did not come here to pick a fight with you.”
Mordecai snorted rudely. “Then you’re wasting your time. Because all I want to do is fight with you. I want to yell at you. I want to make sure you are as miserable as I have been all these years, knowing I had a daughter destined to save the world and not be able to help her. Not be able to find her. Not be able to love her!” he shouted.
Guilt and shame slammed into her, and she opened her mouth, hoping for a small chance to explain. But it was not to be, because Mordecai was apparently taking his first opportunity of a one-on-one with her to do precisely what he said; fight with her, yell at her, ensure her misery.
“You get off on watching, is that it, Dana?” His deep voice was deadly as he moved with predatory grace toward her. “You have nothing better to do with your eternity than to perch on your little windowsill in Otherworld and watch as your creations ruin each other and desecrate their domains? You get your kicks from watching your own flesh and blood flounder in a world that was not only foreign to her, but also poisonous to her? Is that it, huh? Answer me!” he shouted, practically in her face.
Dana’s good humour – as well as her limited patience – fled in the face of his hostility and she allowed her fingertips to spark with pure power as she responded, “You forget your place. I do not answer to you, Warden. Step back.”
Their gazes clashed and locked for a tense few seconds before Mordecai looked at the hands which had coloured vapour swirling over them. Dana knew it looked almost like rainbow fog, but one touch of the swirling mist could bring down mountains.
Mordecai eventually shook his head, a sardonic smile curving his mouth as he took a single step back. “Typical. Put on your Goddess hat when you don’t like the questions. Or is it the answers you’re so afraid of?”
Dana extinguished her powers with a single thought, flushing when she realised what he said was true. She wanted to talk to Mordecai as Dana – as the mother of his child. Not as the creator of pretty much everything. How had her intentions gotten lost in mere seconds? Because the man pushed every button she had without even knowing it, she admitted. He was her weakness – and her biggest threat. And he had no idea. She wondered what he would do if he ever found out. “I apologise. That was instinct. I came here to talk –”
“And if I don’t want to talk to someone like you?” he interrupted.
Dana grit her teeth, striving for calm. “Someone like me? You don’t know anything about me.”
Mordecai shook his head, his top lip curling in disgust. “I don’t want to know anything about you. You conceived and gave birth to a child only to sacrifice it. You are a selfish, manipulative bitch.”
With every word he spoke, he took a step forward, forcing Dana to take a step back to maintain some space between them. A black cloud, speckled with gold, began to take shape around him and Dana knew he was losing control of his Death magic. To everyone else – including death wardens – the elemental magic felt cold, heavy and depressing. It was also painful and capable of tearing open old wounds and causing nightmares. Dana was only able to see the physical manifestation of Mordecai’s powers because she was – at its root – its maker. The magic would not hurt her, but it revealed just how emotional Mordecai was that he was losing control of it. Especially in such close proximity to Max and her family. Aiden, Tobias, Bastien, and Madigan swarmed around Mordecai, putting their hands on him and placing their bodies between him and her. Much to her surprise, Mordecai shook them off.
“How could you, Dana? Seriously, how could you sit behind your precious curtain and do nothing?” Mordecai asked, pain in every syllable. The black cloud was still present, but it was stationary.
“A curtain?” Dana choked out, furious herself now because Mordecai kept harping on about the veil and her apparent wilful idleness. “You ignorant fool, you have no idea –” she barely cut herself off before revealing too much.
“Veil, curtain, window – it doesn’t make any difference what you call it. The end result is the same; you sitting idly by and watching as your own daughter went through hell,” Mordecai interjected. He pulled himself up – and pulled his magic back – shoving past his paladins before stalking toward the door. Just as he reached it, he threw back over his shoulder, “Good chat.” And then he was gone, slamming the door and leaving a deafening silence. And an even greater gaping hole in their relationship. One Dana was sure she had no hope of repairing.
Chapter Three
Mordecai was so furious he was shaking. He hadn’t been at all prepared to come face to face with Dana. After hearing the teasing innuendo in the house, he had thought to beat some of the tension away. It was why, when he turned and saw Dana standing there looking gorgeous and soft and inviting, that he had immediately gone on the defensive. Nothing he had said was untrue, and he believed it was all warranted. But there was a sharp ache in his chest when he thought about the hurt on her face when he had flung his words at her. It felt almost like regret, and that was something he did not need more of. He had enough regret to last him a lifetime. Still, the more he paced back and forth along the shoreline of the now freezing cold ocean, the more he began to feel like shit. And the more something akin to panic began to set in. His chest began to feel tight, and his breath became hard to drag in. Clutching a hand to his throat, he began to hyperventilate.
“Hey, whoa there, bro. Take it easy,” Aiden’s voice reached his ears, and before he knew it, there were four pairs of hands touching him, rubbing his back, patting his chest and stroking his arms. Soothing words and logic met his ears in a steady stream until he was able to breathe normally again and the tightness receded from his chest.
“What the fuck was that?” Mordecai demanded.
“I would say that was one big panic attack,” Madigan offered.
Mordecai shook his head, “Impossible. I’ve never had a panic attack in my life.”
“Well, I guess you don’t consider wars, famines, nightmares, and deaths to be panic-worthy. But talking smack to Mother Nature and your baby-momma is a whole new level,” Bastien volunteered.
Mordecai refused to let that niggle of regret back in. “She deserved it,” he muttered.
“Maybe she did,” Aiden agreed. “And I have no doubt she would agree with you. Because that woman is carrying just as much guilt as you are. But I don’t think that’s the point.”
“No?” Mordecai challenged.
Aiden shook his head, “No. The point is, do you feel better after getting all that off your chest? You’ve been carrying that around for years. How do you feel?”
Mordecai slammed his mouth shut, refusing to answer as he stalked up and down the sand. His sanctimonious, self-righteous, arsehole brothers merely watched him with knowing looks as he practically created a ditch in the beach with his movements. “Oh, shut the fuck up. All of you,” he barked, unable to bear their smirks any longer.
“We didn’t say anything,” Tobias said, innocently.
“Fuck you,” Mordecai grumbled again.
His Order laughed, Tobias commenting, “You do know fuck you is always your default when you don’t want to admit we’re right.”
Mordecai was about to say fuck you again but figured it was redundant at this point. Instead, he stopped walking and put his hands on his hips. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“Apologise,” all four paladins said at the same time.
“Other than that,” Mordecai retorted, knowing he wasn’t ready to apologise for his words.
“Then apologise for your behaviour,” Madigan said, reading his thoughts. “If you’re not sorry for your words, you should be sorry for your actions. You were like a toddler throwing a tantrum, except you’re a large muscular, six-foot-five man. How do you think a tiny woman felt being yelled at and towered over like that? Do you think that is an acceptable way to treat a woman?”
“No …” Mordecai mumbled, now thoroughly ashamed of himself. Nobody could bring him back to earth and call him out on his shit like his Order.
“And what would you do if you saw a man speaking to a woman like that?” Madigan pressed.
“I’d kick his arse,” he admitted.
“That’s right. You’d feed him his balls,” Aiden confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know there’s only one thing for you to do now, right?”
Mordecai sighed, running his hands through his black hair. “Apologise for my appalling behaviour.”
“That’s right,” Tobias paused, “and maybe go and feed Dana your balls. I don’t think she’d mind.”
Mordecai’s mouth fell open in shock before he realised Tobias was already off and racing. Mordecai swore because of the unfair head start and began chasing the irreverent paladin with the intention of throwing him in the icy seawater. One thing he absolutely did not do was visualise a certain goddess with his balls in her mouth. Nope, he did not do that at all.
Dana was still shaking a little when she found Max laying in the library with her feet directed at the lit fireplace, a comfy pillow under her head, and speckly dog by her side. Dana took a moment to calm herself, as well as
take in the miracle that was before her. Her daughter with her hand lovingly cupped over the mound of her growing stomach. Such a scene was one she could have easily seen through the veil in Otherworld, but having spent some time Earth-side now, it made her realise just how much the veil muffled the experience. Here, she could touch her daughter’s hand and feel the warmth of her skin. Here, she could place her hand over her daughter’s womb and feel her grandchild kick. It made her never want to return through the veil – which was impossible. She was Mother Nature. She had responsibilities. But did she not also have responsibilities to her child? To her people? Mordecai sure seemed to think so.
“Well, that didn’t go as well as I was hoping,” Max commented.
Dana shook off her thoughts and walked into the room. She grabbed her own pillow before stretching out next to Max on the floor, giving Zombie a hard scratch behind his ears. “You were listening?”
Max shook her head. “No. I can tell by the look on your face. What happened?”
“Nothing I did not deserve,” was all Dana said, not wanting to create a rift between Max and her father. The pair were only just getting comfortable in their relationship and Dana would never jeopardise that.
Max’s sigh was loud, long, and filled with frustration. “You two are as bad as each other.”
Dana merely hummed in response.
Max propped herself up on an elbow, looking directly at Dana. “When are you going to tell him?”
Dana stared resolutely at the ceiling. “Tell him what?”
“Please,” Max drew the word out whilst simultaneously rolling her eyes, “don’t play dumb.”