“You cut your hair,” Wren commented.
Claire put a hand to her head and, for the first time since I’d met her, looked self-conscious. “The long hair seemed too much to deal with once I was topside.”
“But all of Hecate’s acolytes keep their hair long,” Wren said.
“I’m not an acolyte anymore,” Claire said. “And neither are you.”
Wren tensed, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “She’s still my mother.”
“And a Fate is mine,” Claire replied. “Doesn’t mean we have to act like them.”
Now it was Wren’s turn to look self-conscious. “Maybe I should cut my hair and buy some different clothes.”
“I like the way you look,” I said. I was only trying to make her feel better. She was sexy with long hair or short. I didn’t care. But Claire took it the wrong way.
“Do you always tell your women how to dress?” she snapped.
I took a bite of stir-fry and chewed slowly in an attempt to hold on to my temper. It hadn’t worked by the time I swallowed.
“First of all, Wren’s not my woman,” I said. “She’s her own woman. And I don’t give a fuck if she’s bald. She’d still be sexy as hell.” I glared at Claire and she backed down, but not before she muttered, “And you’re too stupid to see beyond that.”
“What did you say?”
Naomi intervened before the situation could deteriorate any further. “This stir-fry is delicious,” she said brightly. “It’s a wonderful thank-you dinner for Nyx.”
Claire caught the note in her voice and said, “Sorry, Nyx, I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about controlling men.”
I opened my mouth to ask her more, but Naomi gave a tiny shake of her head. There was no sense in upsetting my favorite cousin, so I kept quiet.
Claire poured generous servings of sake with dinner, which took the edge off enough that we made it through the rest of the meal without quarreling.
“It’s good to be home.” Claire leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “I missed my place so much. And you, too, of course,” she added to Naomi.
“Then why did you stay with Hecate? Didn’t you realize the wine was enchanted?” I asked. Naomi glared at me, but I ignored her and tossed back another shot of sake.
“I stayed because I didn’t have a choice,” she said. “I drank the wine. I didn’t have anyone to help me.”
“We didn’t know where you were,” Naomi said softly.
“How did you end up in the underworld in the first place?” I persisted.
Naomi kicked me under the table. “All that matters is she’s back,” she said.
She refused to believe there was anything suspicious about Claire’s time in the underworld, but I was sure that Claire had been drinking the Hecate Kool-Aid willingly. Which meant she couldn’t be trusted.
“I need some air,” I said.
“There’s a balcony through those doors,” Naomi said, pointing to a glass slider. “I love looking at the city at night.”
“I’ll join you,” Talbot said. I grabbed the bottle of sake and headed outside.
Talbot stood there shivering while I polished off the bottle. “So what’s your beef with your cousin? Claire, I mean.”
“I don’t trust her,” I said.
“Why? Because she’s a Fate? So is Naomi and you trust her.”
“Not because she’s a Fate,” I said. “Because when we found her, she was mighty cozy with Hecate.”
“Stockholm syndrome,” he said. “And the grapes.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe she’s up to something.”
“Or maybe someone else is,” Talbot said flatly. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting involved with someone you don’t know anything about because you’re lonely.”
Lonely? It was an understatement. I’d put my emotions in cold storage, having been taught by my murderous aunts not to get attached.
“I know Wren saved Claire,” I said. “Saved Naomi.”
“And I’ll always be grateful,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean I trust her.”
“Who says I trust her?”
He blinked. “I assumed…”
“You assumed that Elizabeth hadn’t taught me anything? I’m lonely, not stupid.” I had been stupid—stupid to trust Elizabeth, stupid to hope for a scrap of love—but that was all over.
He watched Naomi through the clear glass. “Look at Naomi. She’s thrilled to have Claire home.”
I watched Claire through the glass door. She and Wren were smiling at Naomi, who had her arm slung affectionately across her cousin’s shoulder.
“I was hunted for two hundred years,” I reminded him. “I have reason enough to be suspicious.”
“But things are better now with your aunts, right?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “The deal was I’d find Claire and they’d leave Elizabeth alone, not that they’d leave me alone.”
“Naomi would never let them hurt you,” he said.
“She’s one little Fate-in-training,” I said. “They are three very powerful witches.”
“She’d do anything for you.”
“And I’d do anything for her,” I said.
“Then cut Claire some slack,” Talbot said. “Please.”
“I’ll try,” I replied. We rejoined the party just in time. Morta and Deci stood in the entryway.
“Mom, Aunt Deci,” Claire said. “What a surprise. Where’s Aunt Nona?”
Morta gave Claire a peck on the cheek. “She’s not feeling well.”
More likely, Nona was passed out drunk. She hadn’t handled Sawyer’s death well.
“Oh, you have company,” Deci said. Something about the way she said it made me nervous. Wren? Where was Wren? If my aunts figured out who she was, all hell was going to break loose.
“Who is your friend?” Deci asked, looking at Wren, who sat frozen on the sofa.
“She’s my date,” I snapped. I sat next to Wren and grabbed her hand.
Morta inspected Wren. I watched as Morta’s face changed. She put a finger to her cheek and tapped it, theatrically. “Now, where have I seen your face before?”
“She’s a friend, Mom,” Claire said, casting Naomi a desperate glance.
Morta said, “Can someone tell me why the son of Fortuna is dallying with the daughter of our worst enemy?”
It was cold comfort that she hadn’t recognized Wren’s paternity. My attention had been focused on Morta, but then a movement caught my eye. Deci stood practically on top of us.
She held up one of Claire’s candles, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. “Claire, this is quite lovely,” she said. “And it smells divine.”
Then she dropped the candle in Wren’s lap. The hem of her dress ignited instantaneously. The flames burning greener than any naturally occurring flame. Magic.
Wren shrieked as the fire grew. It licked at her hair, which she’d worn down. Deci was transfixed by the burning girl.
“Exstinguo,” I said, but nothing happened. “Out! Extinguish!”
The fire went out, but I felt as if all oxygen had been removed from the room.
“Are you okay?” I asked Wren. I grabbed her and hauled her to the feet. “Let me look at you.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll probably need a trim, though.” She held up a handful of hair, which was singed at the ends. There didn’t seem to be any damage to Wren, but the strong smell of singed hair permeated the room.
Deci breathed it in like she was sniffing a bouquet of roses. “Wasn’t it pretty?” Someone had a mad crush on Hephaestus, the god of fire.
“Deci?” Morta said sharply. “Deci, what was pretty?”
Deci’s eyes regained their focus. “The candle, of course,” she finally replied. “I am so sorry. It just slipped out of my hand.”
“So clumsy of you,” I said.
“It was an accident,” Naomi said. “Acciden
ts happen.”
“Seem to be happening a lot lately,” Talbot muttered.
Naomi narrowed her eyes at him and then turned to Wren. “C’mon, Wren. I’ll help you get cleaned up. I’m sure Claire has something you can borrow.”
“Go ahead and take her to my bedroom,” Claire said. “I need to talk to my mom a minute.”
While Morta and Claire conducted a low-voiced conversation in the kitchen, Deci and I had a staring contest in the living room.
Whatever Claire said to her mother convinced her to leave without causing a scene or trying to kill the dinner guests.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I was on high alert for the next few days, but there was no response from Hecate or the Fates. When Claire proposed a night out with Wren and Naomi, no guys allowed, I went along with it.
Talbot and I decided to hit the Red Dragon after work. We ordered a pitcher of beer and snagged the last available booth.
“What do you think the girls are up to tonight?” I asked.
He gave me an amused look. “Are you worried?”
“You mean about Hecate? Not after I saw Wren kill a demon in my kitchen.” I took a sip of my beer. “What is this stuff?” I asked.
“Red Dragon’s going upscale,” he said. “It’s from a microbrewery.”
“You couldn’t just order PBR, like usual?”
He laughed.
I changed the subject. “Do you think Naomi knows that Wren’s her sister?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t picture Naomi keeping it a secret if she did know.”
“We have to tell her eventually, you know,” I replied.
“I know,” he said. “I think we can use a couple of shots before taking on that Herculean task.”
When he got up to go to the bar, I glanced over at the entrance, out of habit more than any fear I was about to be ambushed.
Willow walked into the Red Dragon in the middle of happy hour. I’d never seen a naiad in a dive bar before. Something must be wrong.
She wore what could loosely be called a dress, with her favorite necklace of river rock. She was barefoot and her hair was still damp and curled about her face. It made her look impossibly young and innocent.
I felt a twinge of guilt, but then I noticed her dress was hanging on with difficulty. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Some guy walked up to her and said something and she laughed, which sent the bodice of her dress sliding even lower, until it clung precariously to her breasts.
I felt another twinge, this time in my balls, as desire replaced guilt.
She scanned the bar until she found me. Every male in the place watched her walk over to me.
“Nyx,” she said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Was it possible that I had feelings for Willow? That was a complication I didn’t need. Besides, I was sleeping with Wren. And I still loved Elizabeth, despite the fact that she’d made it clear she never wanted to see me again.
Maybe Talbot was right. Maybe drinking was part of my self-destructive behavior, but my complicated love life wasn’t getting any less complicated.
I waved the cocktail server over. “Another.”
When she brought it over, I tossed it back. “Let’s get out of here,” I said.
“What?” Willow asked.
“I assume that you didn’t bother with the mortal disguise because you were looking for a quickie. We’ll talk about it on the way back to your place.”
I paid our tab, which was more than expected, and said good-bye to Talbot, who frowned but kept his mouth shut.
Willow kept her eyes on her feet. Whatever she wanted to tell me, she didn’t think I was going to be happy about it.
“I am going to be wed,” she said when we were a few blocks from the lake.
It was the last thing I’d expected to hear. Naiad marriage rituals were peculiar. A thought struck me. Was I the intended bridegroom? The thought made me shudder, which, unfortunately, she noticed.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said. “You don’t know him.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s a businessman,” she said.
“Why are you getting married?” I asked. “What about…?” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t ask her about us, not when I was involved with Wren.
“Nyx, you are my friend,” she said. “And besides, I thought there was someone new in your life.”
“Wren and I are— We aren’t…” I sputtered, but she waved away my half-assed explanation.
“Is he a decent guy? Will he treat you right?” I was conflicted by her news.
She shrugged. “I have no idea.”
I stopped. “Then why are you marrying him?”
“It was arranged,” she said vaguely.
I was getting over my initial shock. Maybe her marriage would uncomplicate things for me, but Willow didn’t seem particularly joyous about the engagement, which, in my limited experience, was a little odd.
“Is he from the House of Poseidon?”
“No,” she said.
“Mortal?” The thought astounded me. Naiads were happy to dally with mortals, but when it came to commitment, they stuck to their own.
“No,” she said again.” Then, “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Is that what you came to tell me?”
“Yes,” she said. “And now I have.”
“Anything else you want to tell me?”
She hesitated. “Please be careful, son of Fortuna.”
“Of what?”
“Your heart,” she said. “Tell me about this Wren. Does she love you?”
“No,” I said. I didn’t trust Wren, but I lusted after her.
“Do you love her?”
It felt awkward to talk about my relationship with Wren to Willow, so I just shook my head.
“I am sorry to have to tell you that we can no longer consort,” she said. “My fiancé is aware of our relationship and expects sexual fidelity.”
“Who is this guy?” Willow was talking like it was a business deal, not a love match. I didn’t expect a happily ever after for everybody, but I’d more at ease if there was even a trace of affection in her voice.
She hesitated. “Sean Danvers,” she said.
Despite the fact that I’d spotted him at a bachelor party the other night, his was the last name I had expected to hear.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I brooded about Willow’s engagement all week, but I still had other things on my plate.
I stopped by the morgue to check in with Baxter.
“Any more naiads come through here?” I asked him.
“It’s been quiet,” he said.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I pointed out.
He grinned at me. “You’re learning, son of Fortuna,” he said. “No naiads or any other magical creature.”
I studied him for a moment. “How was the bachelor party the other night?”
For some reason, the subject made him uneasy. “Fine.”
“Fine? A night of debauchery was fine?” There was definitely something he wasn’t telling me.
“Yeah, fine,” he said. “Anything else?”
“What happened?”
“Nothin’.”
“Baxter, just spit it out and save me the trouble of knocking the answers out of you.”
He stared at me. “The groom roughed up one of the strippers, is all.”
“Sean Danvers hits women?”
“Not my cup of tea, but the groom seemed to get off on it,” Baxter replied.
“That guy’s a real asshole,” I said.
“We finally agree on something,” Baxter replied.
“Call me if you see any more naiads come through,” I said.
“I don’t think there will be,” he said.
“What makes you say that?”
“Word is that Trey was able to broker a deal,” he replied. “His niece’s hand in marriage if the killings ended.”
“And the groom was able to make that promise?”
Baxter met my eyes. “Exactly.”
I left the morgue, but couldn’t stop thinking about what Baxter had told me. Was what he had told me true? Would the naiad killings stop? More importantly, could I stop the wedding? I’d be the charms around my neck that Danvers was the murderer.
*
Wren came to work with me on Saturday. Daylight still hurt her eyes, so I made sure she had a pair of sunglasses before we left.
“About time you showed up,” Talbot said. He and Naomi were sitting on a silk-covered chaise lounge. I was pretty sure they’d been making out until the bell above the door had warned them someone was coming.
I looked around Eternity Road, which was noticeably lacking in customers. “Sorry to leave you to handle the rush by yourself.”
“How is Claire?” Wren asked Naomi.
“She’s adjusting,” she replied. “She’ll be starting back at Parsi next week.”
“Nice to be related to the boss,” I commented.
“That’s how you got your job,” Naomi said.
“No.” I corrected her. “I lied my way into the job. Being related is how I keep it. And that’s just because the Fates want to keep an eye on me.”
Naomi snorted. “Do you blame them?”
I didn’t want to fight with her, so I changed the subject.
“Where’s your dad?” I asked Talbot. Maybe Ambrose would have some advice.
“He’s out of town for a few days, buying inventory,” he replied. He snapped his fingers. “That reminds me, this came for you yesterday.” He rummaged through a pile of mail on the counter and then held up a creamy white envelope, edged in black ribbon.
I opened it gingerly and scanned the paper. “It’s a wedding invitation. To Willow’s wedding to Sean Danvers.” I tossed it aside. “I’ll have to send my regrets.” There wasn’t going to be a wedding, not if I could stop it.
“I’ve never been to a wedding before,” Wren said wistfully. “Can we go? Please, Nyx,” she coaxed.
“You want me to take you to Willow’s wedding?”
“Yes, I want to go,” she replied. “You said yourself that you and Willow are just friends,” she said.
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