Catalyst (A Grace Murphy Novella)

by Nicole Hamlett

  Damn, I should have just challenged him to a sword fight.

  Behind us, I could hear people gathering around the edges, watching. For the first time since I issued my challenge to him, I worried that I might not emerge the victor. I certainly needed to re-evaluate my level of training and the time I was spending to further my skill. Just because I was told that I was the one who would stop Nyx didn't mean that I could sit back and wait for it to happen.

  Dylan had just taught me a valuable lesson. I wasn't taking my training as seriously as I needed to. If a fourteen year old kid could ring my bell, it meant that the opponents I'd defeated hadn't fallen because I was better. They'd lost because they were having a really unlucky day.

  Well maybe some of it had to do with my awesome level of power but I wasn't going to kid myself and deny that I still had work to do.

  I should have been paying attention instead of musing on my level of badassery. Dylan, sensing my lack of attention decided to bring me back to the fight with a nice little bolt of lightning.

  "Gahgurgehdy!" Is what came out of my mouth. What I'd meant to say was 'Are you fucking kidding me?!'

  My arms and legs shot out and spasmed uncontrollably until I grounded my body by surrounding myself with a layer of mud and clay. My body stopped twitching but he'd finally put me into an unholy rage. Was he trying to kill me? The ground beneath me started trembling and in the distance I could hear someone calling my name.

  Our eyes met across the short distance. His were wide, the whites nearly overwhelming his pupils. I didn't want to know what he saw in mine but I was glad he'd finally gotten nervous. Good. He should be scared. Thin columns of earth shot out of the ground and wrapped themselves around his arms and legs so fast that they were a blur. I pulled my arm back and his body hit the ground hard, bouncing his head back against the hard packed clay.

  I should have stopped there but I let him slowly sink into the ground. Mud and gravel spilled up over his body until all that was visible were his nose and mouth.

  "Mom," he shouted.

  I didn't answer. I stalked over to him and trembled with anger. Not at him, at myself. I was the cocky asshole who'd set the rules of this engagement. It wasn't necessarily his fault that he'd taken them at face value.

  "Say it!" I yelled.

  "I give up, Mom. Jesus! I give up!"

  I released my hold on his body and turned away so he wouldn't see my face. I'd only won because I let my rage overwhelm my logic. I wasn't even close to being ready for the end game. Worse, I knew that this stupid stunt hadn't won me any points with my son. I could hear him angrily brushing dirt and mud from his clothes and felt the shower of pebbles as he shook his head to clear his ears and hair.

  I was afraid to turn around, afraid to see the look on his face. I wanted so desperately for us to go back to the easiness of our relationship from before, where we were all each other had and it was us against the world. I had such a hard time accepting that those days were gone.

  Dylan wasn't my little bubby anymore. I was losing him bit by bit and no matter how hard I tried to hold on to him or how much I struggled to make the right decisions, nothing was working.

  Drew stood in front of me when I finally opened my eyes. He reached for my arm and I jerked away. I wasn't ready for comfort or chastisement. Whatever he had planned on saying went left unsaid. Instead he murmured, "It's going to be okay."

  The future looked bleak from my point of view and I thought it so I didn't have to say it out loud.

  He turned to Dylan and smiled. "That was an awesome display, kid! You're really improving on your control of the storm. Great job!"

  That should have been me saying those words. The sad fact was that I hadn't even known he'd had that kind of control over his power. I had no idea who he had a crush on, what his favorite subjects were in school or what he did for fun these days.

  I'd lost touch with my child. I claimed that he was my reason for living, the very love of my life and I couldn't tell you what he ate for breakfast anymore because we rarely ate together unless I made an appointment with him.

  The worst of this was that I had no idea how to turn around, smile and congratulate him on a good fight and tell him how proud I was at his skill. I was completely and utterly destroyed by my realizations.

  My eyes burned with unshed tears and I could see my mother wavering before me. Her gentle smile washed over me like a balm. She gave me a small shrug as if to say that things could and probably would get much worse before they got better. I guess if anyone knew how to handle a recalcitrant and bitter child, it was her. She pulled me into a side hug and turned me around to face my demons.

  I pasted a smile on my face so he couldn't see the turmoil within. "Wow, you nearly had me there."

  He wouldn't look me in the eye now and my heart clenched at the uneasy tightening of his mouth. I should have pulled him out of the ground and hugged him and told him that he was awesome as soon as I'd gotten his surrender. I'd made yet another wrong decision where he was concerned.

  Hindsight. It was a killer.

  "That was a great show. What in the world made you two decide to practice today? I thought you were off on vacation?" My mother, ever the diplomat.

  Dylan shrugged. "Mom wanted to assert her dominance over me. She succeeded."

  "Not fair," I argued.

  "Hey, this isn't the time to argue," Diana interrupted. "Are you both back home now? How was the rest of your day?"

  "No, actually we're going back," I said.

  "You can go. I've got practice and homework to take care of." Dylan turned to walk away and I didn't think. I grabbed his arm and ignored the stiffening of his body.

  "Stop. I shouldn't have gotten angry." I pulled him into a hug and didn't let go despite all of the signals he was throwing at me to leave him alone. "You didn't do anything wrong. I laid down the rules and you followed them. I shouldn't have been hurt that you went for blood. That was my fault."

  "Sure. Whatever."

  I gently head butted him to get him to look at me. "Hey, I'm apologizing, here. The least you can do is listen."

  "I'm sorry that I hurt you." His tone was flat but I didn't press.

  "I should have known better than to expect you to play by rules that I didn't say out loud. Let's shake and call it good? Next time I won't be so surprised. Jesus, when did you learn to use the air to hover like that? That was amazing!"

  He relaxed a little beside me as I continued to praise his fighting skill. But we both knew that it had come a little too late.

  "Friends?"

  He hesitated a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I guess we can go back."

  "I'll just write a quick note declining the invite and we can eat at the place down by the water."

  "Ugh, I've had enough of water for today. You should go. Grandma and I can go on a couple of rides and I'll buy her a churro. Do you think she's ever had a churro before?"

  I fought off the disappointment and looked at my mother. She was worried about us but she was letting us deal with it ourselves – for now.

  "I can't even imagine the great Diana ever eating a churro. You should definitely buy her one."

  She turned to me. "What is this about an invite?"

  I explained the mysterious invitation to her and all I got in return was a raised eyebrow. "What do you think?"

  She paused a moment, clearly thinking of what she could say. It said volumes about our relationship that she couldn't just say what she was thinking without the fear that she's set me off. "I think you should wear a nice dress that allows for movement just in case you have to fight your way out of there."

  I nodded. "Fair enough. Want to help me find something?"

  Chapter 7

  And when there's nothing left to say all you can do is walk away

  When we'd gotten back to the room, Heph was nowhere in sight and he hadn't shown up by the time breakfast rolled around. He was probably off nursing his wounds – in the literal sense. His
jaw wasn't going to relocate itself.

  Part of me hoped that he'd stay away. I hated fighting with him and it seemed that we couldn't be the in the same room for more than fifteen minutes before one or the other started taking pot shots. That was what a combination of sexual tension and wariness got you.

  The next day was uneventful. I got my Princess fix and as an added bonus, Diana played fairy godmother and I ended up in a ball gown and tiara before we were done. I don't think I've ever loved her more.

  Surprisingly, the day was completely normal with the exception of a small incident when she took me shopping for big girls later in the afternoon. As I was modeling a dress for her, she'd grabbed my arm and pulled me close for inspection.

  "What is this on your upper arm? It looks like a snake bite." Her brows knit together in a frown.

  "Oh, one of Medusa's snakes snagged me when we were fighting."

  The color in her face drained, leaving her a ghastly white. "Why didn't you tell me right away?"

  I shrugged. "I didn't think anything of it. I figured that it would have healed by now. I completely forgot about it until you pointed it out."

  She nodded and I noticed a slight tremble in her hands. "I need to pop home quickly. I just remembered that I have a pair of earrings that would look great with this dress."

  "Okay. Want Dylan and I to meet you back at the hotel or should we come with you?"

  She waved her hand, dismissing me. "No. No. I'll meet you at the hotel."

  She'd met us in the room, handed off the earrings and then her and my spawn had disappeared for the rest of the afternoon while I dressed for the evening's entertainment.

  Was I nervous? Yeah. I couldn't help but have a little anxiety over going into an unknown situation alone. However, since everyone seemed to believe that I was being paranoid, I was going to brave it. I was dressed and ready with thirty minutes to spare.

  I checked my hair one more time, grabbed my clutch and hesitated only a few minutes in front of the door before I took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway.

  I didn't dress up often. Diana had picked the dress out claiming that every woman needed at least one little black dress. Little was the key word. I could have walked out into the hall naked and felt more clothed. It wasn't obscene. Everything was covered. You could have even called it tasteful, or pretty. The fitted bodice kept everything nicely in place and was held up with straps. I had no problem with that part of the dress. My issue came from the light as air flirty skirt that fell right above my knee. I could perform a fully extended kick and not rip the dress. Because of that mobility, it felt like I wasn't wearing a thing.

  With everything else I've learned about recently, would you believe my biggest fear is leaving the house with my skirt tucked into my underwear?

  I reinserted the steel rod into my spine and walked out to the lobby where a driver was waiting to take me to the private back entrance of the Club. If worse came to worst, I could at least say with assurance that I would never see these people again – I hoped.

  The car pulled up to a nondescript awning and stopped in front of the carpeted walk. Okay, this was it. I'd either go in or have a socially awkward time with strangers or it would be a trap. If it was a trap I'd teleport out, alert the troops and be back in my hotel room in time for the Princess Power Hour tomorrow morning.

  I waited for the driver to open the door and I stepped out with a nod of thanks as he handed me onto the carpeted walkway. "Thank you," I murmured.

  I smoothed down the back of my skirt, checking to make sure it was in the right place and strode toward the door, concentrating on not breaking my neck in the high heels my mother insisted I wore with the dress. She convinced me because the heels were sharper than my knife and in a pinch, I could do serious damage with them. It didn't make it any easier to walk in them though. I couldn't see them doing me any good if I was sprawled on the floor with my dress up around my waist because I broke my damned ankle.

  A sharp intake of breath halted my wandering thoughts and I looked up to see where it had come from. Everything froze. I forgot to breath. I'm pretty sure I stumbled and would have completed the scenario above if the driver hadn't steadied me.

  Whoa.

  Standing in front of the door dressed in a bespoke tuxedo, was quite possibly the sexiest man alive. His blue eyes bore into mine and I took a minute to soak in the view. Hephaestus wasn't as pretty as Drew, but his masculine beauty drew the eye. Short tousled dark chocolate hair topped an arresting face. No matter how often he shaved, there would always be a shadow. The only mar in his perfection was the scar that Lyssa had given him. It gave him a rakish air that he embraced.

  Unfortunately he was also the world's biggest asshole. I strangled the tingling sensations ripping through my body and cocked a hip.

  "I see your jaw is back in place." It came out breathier than I intended and I fought the blush rising from my chest.

  He simply grinned and held out his arm. I scowled and took it, letting him lead me into the restaurant. "So I see that this was a trap."

  "Or a nice surprise," he murmured.

  "Or a trap," I bit out.

  The maître d bowed as we passed through the entryway and signaled a young man dressed in a suit. "John will show you to your table."

  I smiled and thanked the man before I allowed Hephaestus to lead me behind John. He took us into a private elevator that opened up onto a rooftop patio. Our table was situated near the low wall allowing us to see the park below. The sun was setting, washing the scenery in a soft glow of orange and magenta.

  He seated me first and draped the linen napkin across my lap. "Can I recommend a glass of wine while you wait for your waiter?" he asked.

  I nodded and tried not to fidget. I wanted him out of here so I could find out what the hell was going on.

  Hephaestus shook his head and John disappeared behind a screen that must have held a beverage station. He was back with menus and my wine before I could start in with my interrogation.

  With little fuss or muss, our orders were taken and we were left, me with my wine and he with his lemon water. I looked over the wall to the view below and asked, "Why are we here?"

  "Because I thought I'd give up innuendo and games and try full on romance and honesty."

  The smile on my face wasn't one of joy. There wasn't any mirth left in me. It had been a shitter of a vacation and what I wanted more than anything in the world was to crawl into my bed at home and pull sheets up over my head until the world stopped throwing punches at me.

  "Listen, it's not that you don't ring my bell. It's that I'm so exhausted after all of the dramatic bullshit between us that I don't have the energy to take the next step."

  I looked him in the eye after that and waited for the nuclear explosion to hit. My shoulders tensed and I was ready to sprint at the first sign of trouble.

  "You look beautiful tonight," he rumbled.

  Those four words scrambled my brain. This was not the expected response. What did I do? What did I say?

  "Thank you," he said with a smirk. "When someone compliments you, you say thank you."

  Oh right, that was why he drove me bat-fucking-insane. "Thank you." I said shortly. "Your unexpected compliment threw me for a loop there and I momentarily forgot my manners. It's just so out of character for you to be nice."

  A low growl sounded from his throat and all of the hair on my arms and neck stood on end. I had to give it to him; at least he was keeping it together. "What?" I taunted, "You want us to play nice, happy romantic couple? Give me a reason."

  He reached across the small table and grasped the back of my neck, pulling me forward. I couldn't scramble away fast enough and our lips met. It was the same as before. Thunder exploded in the distance and a maelstrom of emotion swirled in my chest. The heat between us increased as his tongue swept across the seam of my lips, seeking entrance.

  I had a brief but very real fear that we'd catch this place on fire and people around
the world would label me as the woman who destroyed MagicHappyFuntimeLand. I couldn't live that reputation down. Thankfully that ludicrous thought kept me in the moment and instead of letting him sweep me away, I was able to pull back and reseat myself in my chair.

  I wanted a moment to touch my lips and analyze the feelings he evoked within me. But I didn't have a moment. The titanium walls of my mental shield went up and doubled in size. There was no way he was getting through to my private thoughts right now.

  We stared at each other across the table, eyes wide. I couldn't take a full breath. Everything felt too tight. My hand shook as I lifted the glass of wine to my mouth. It was probable that I'd spill most of it down my dress, but I needed a distraction and fast.

  "That. That's the reason."

  "That's not a good enough reason." Was my voice shaking? Did I sound strong?

  "You make me crazy," he rasped.

  His admission startled me. It wasn't that I didn't know that I made him crazy. But to have him admit it was surprising. "Maybe you're just fucking crazy," I shot back. He wasn't allowed to just sweep me off my feet after the things he said to me yesterday. If I let that go, it would just get worse over time. My marriage taught me that hard lesson.

  "Why do you have to make everything a thousand times harder than it needs to be Grace? Why can't we as two adults step outside of the teenage bullshit and just fuck?"

  You know, if he'd said something romantic like he'd take twenty years off of his life if I would only love him back or some other besotted drivel, I might have caved. I've been known to cave for less. But to put it out there so baldly set my teeth on edge.

  I slammed my glass down on the table and broke the stem. The glass bit into my palm and I hissed with the shock of pain.