Amy Sumida - Tracing Thunder (The Godhunter Series Book 13)

by Unknown

  “No,” I took her hand. “You're its mother. You're in control. This is your body, your choice. Control your child, explain to it that anger doesn't always have to manifest. That it needs to be tempered with wisdom.”

  “I can't,” she moaned.

  “It's nearly upon us,” the healer pointed out the window and we could all see the massive waterspout heading our way. Chunks of debris were shooting out of it, hurling through the air like missiles.

  “Lorna,” Guirmean slid into bed behind her and wrapped his arms around her belly. “You're not alone. I'll help you.”

  “Guirmean,” she cried. “It hurts to deny the baby. It hurts.”

  “We will all be hurt if you don't,” he said gently.

  Her face scrunched up in concentration and pain as she bent over her stomach and screamed. Screaming and panting, almost as if she were in labor, Lorna finally won. As the spray from the spout started to hit her bedroom window, she heaved herself back in exhaustion and the vortex whooshed apart, splashing harmlessly back into the ocean.

  “I'm sorry,” she whispered as Guirmean laid her down gently.

  “Don't be sorry,” he pushed the hair back from her forehead. “You saved us. You did it, Lorna. Again. I'm so proud of you.”

  “You are?” She smiled up at him in a way that rang warning bells in my head. This could become a problem for Guirmean and Nora.

  “Is everything okay in here?” Arach came back in and looked around.

  “We're fine,” Guirmean gave us a relieved smile. “Thank you both for coming to help us.”

  “Who would have thought?” I nodded toward the delicate looking Lorna, who'd gone and fallen asleep.

  “Not I,” Guirmean made a disbelieving huff. “Never would I have suspected her.”

  “Well it explains why the magic hated fire,” Arach looked over at me.

  “It explains a lot,” I nodded. “And I have a feeling you're going to be doing a lot of explaining too,” I said pointedly to Guirmean. “We're going to head home and leave you to it. I'm sure Nora will be eager to talk to you.”

  “Yes,” Guirmean frowned and glanced at the bed.

  “Follow your heart,” I put a hand on him and the butterflies of Love rose up and fluttered out through my fingertips. “Don't let what others think decide your life for you. Do what makes you happy.”

  “Thank you,” he placed his hand over mine. “I'll try to remember that.”

  “And I'm never babysitting,” I teased. “Just wanted to throw that out there.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  “I'm just glad we don't have to interview all those powerful water fey,” I said as we walked back into our bedroom at castle Aithinne.

  “That could have been fun,” Arach bared his teeth in a smile.

  “We really need to work on your idea of fun, honey,” I chuckled as I plopped into a chair.

  “You seemed to have enjoyed my earlier ideas,” his smile turned more sensual.

  “Oh and you predictably take the conversation back towards sex,” I rolled my eyes. “You know there are other things we can do together.”

  “Like what?” His tone was disbelieving but his eyes were full of a teasing light.

  “Checkers,” I said seriously.

  “What are checkers?” He lost the teasing light to a frown of confusion.

  “It's a game.”

  “I could chase you around the kingdom,” he offered. “That'll be a good game.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Or we could chase other people around the kingdom.”

  “Like who?” I grimaced.

  “Roarke,” he said instantly and I couldn't help but laugh.

  “What's he done now?”

  “Oh nothing,” Arach took the chair across from mine. “He's just fun to chase.”

  “You know, dragons are a lot like cats,” I observed.

  “Bite your tongue,” he gasped.

  “No, really,” I laughed. “They both love to hunt, to chase things and kill them. You know, they say that if an average house cat were the size of predator animals in the wild, it would be the most dangerous animal on Earth because it kills for fun.”

  “Hmph,” he neither agreed nor disagreed.

  “Maybe we should get you a gigantic cat toy to take your aggression out on. Nick loves this one I bought him that's battery operated. It has a vinyl tail attached to a wand that moves around a central machine in a circular but erratic pattern. There's a yellow skirt covering it so just the end of the tail peeks out and as it moves, it swishes under the skirt. He'll play with that thing for hours.”

  “I'm not a cat, Vervain,” Arach grimaced.

  “But you love chasing me when I swish under a skirt,” I continued gleefully. “It's called Cat's Meow. We could make you a giant one that functions on a wheel mechanism. We'd just need a few fey to work the wheel.”

  “Vervain,” he growled.

  “Don't knock it until you try it.”

  “I was going to show you the chess board I had the earth pixies make for us,” he said in a bored tone. “Maybe play a few games with you.”

  “The earth pixies made us a chess set?”

  “Oh yes, it's quite beautiful,” he nodded and then pounced on me, throwing me up into the air. “But all of your talk of chasing things and you swishing beneath a skirt has changed my mind.” He tossed me onto our bed. “Run, A Thaisce.”

  “What?” I leapt up to my feet and backed toward the door.

  “I said run,” he grinned wickedly at me.

  I giggled like a little girl and ran out the door, racing down the stairs as I wondered how long he'd chase me before I'd let him do some catching.

  Maybe I was responsible for everything that happened in my life. Maybe I was where I was because of every choice I'd made. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

  Keep Reading for a sneak peak into Vervain's next adventure:

  Light as a Feather

  Chapter One

  July is in the beginning of hurricane season in Hawaii. Yes, paradise has storms. Horrible storms that split the sky with jagged tears of light and gusts of wind so strong it can pull the roof right off a house. I used to love the storms, the thunder loud enough to shake my home and the rain lashing against the tin roof like tribal drums. I never feared them or what they could do but now I knew better.

  Thunder was a warning of something terrible to come.

  I stared at the bright Hawaiian sky from my lounge chair and thought about the storms I'd just weathered. Zeus was conquered, most of his magic gone for good, and so was his wife Hera but you didn't need magic to be deadly. Anger could give a weak man strength and Zeus wasn't weak. I just hoped that letting him and Hera live wouldn't come back to bite me in the butt.

  All thunder gods weren't bad though. I considered Thor and how wonderful it used to be when we were together. Storms had been about passion then, about wild desire and even love. So I guess you can add melancholy to my new distaste of storms. Although I'd long ago gotten over Thor, the memory of our time together was bittersweet.

  Nick, my gray tabby, started purring from his spot in my lap and I stroked his fur, bringing myself some much needed peace. Why couldn't I just let the past go and relax for awhile? I always complained about never getting time off from the God War then there I was, with some free time on my hands and what did I do with it? I laid in my backyard in Kaneohe and brooded.

  “You want some more wine?” Jackson, one of my human friends, asked. I'd invited him and his boyfriend, Tristan, over for a barbecue. I hadn't seen them in forever and it was just one more reason not to dwell on the recent trouble I'd had with the Greek Sky God. Oh and Freyr, of course. We couldn't forget Alfheim. Literally, I couldn't forget it, losing the last piece of my mother was something I'd regret forever but then, not giving her up would have been far worse.

  “Yes, definitely,” I said to Jax with a forced grin. “And keep it coming.”

  “You
got it, shug,” he poured a hefty amount of red into my wineglass. “Whatchu thinkin' so hard about?”

  “Oh, the past,” I shrugged. “Regrets.”

  “Best not to dwell on things you can't change,” Tristan added from where he was seated nearby at the picnic table.

  “Past is past,” Kirill, my Russian werelion lover, agreed. He was at the grill, cooking some shrimp and steaks. “And our past is good because look vhere ve are,” he gestured around my pretty yard, with its fragrant orange tree and happy little koi pond. “Paradise, da?”

  “Da!” Tristan exclaimed exuberantly.

  “And look what we have to drink,” Trevor added as he came out of the house with another two bottles of wine.

  “Is that Dionysus' wine?” I gaped at him.

  “Yep,” he nodded and set the bottles down on the picnic table. He immediately set to opening one of them.

  “Dionysus,” Tristan whispered in awe as he reached for one of the bottles.

  “Don't, Tryst,” I called out and he pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned. “That wine is strong enough to make a god drunk. I have no idea what it'll do to you.”

  “I think it would be worth the taste,” Jackson went over to investigate.

  “Have at it,” Trevor laughed while I glared at him.

  “Trevor,” I chided. “He could get alcohol poisoning or something. Maybe even die.”

  “He's not going to die from drinking wine,” Trevor scoffed. Typical alpha werewolf. He also happened to be my alpha lover.

  A sloshing sound caught our attention and we looked over to see Jackson pouring a small amount of wine into his glass. Tristan was peering at the dark liquid like it was cyanide but Jax lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled deep, a look of pure bliss crossing his features. Then he crumpled to the ground and promptly passed out, drunk and snoring, in the grass.

  “Jackson!” Tristan jumped up, as did I, upsetting poor Nick, who ran off to find something to kill to assuage his wounded kitty pride.

  Trevor, in a panic, picked Jackson up and shook him till he opened one eye sleepily. Jax giggled and put a hand to Trevor's face.

  “You're a nice doggy,” he slurred and pet Trevor's short, dark hair. Trevor dropped him immediately and grimaced at me when I laughed.

  “Hey!” Tristan rolled Jax onto his back and brushed the grass from his face. “You didn't have to drop him.”

  “I'd normally do far worse to someone who called me a doggy,” Trevor went to pour himself a glass of wine. “He can count himself lucky.”

  “You're the one that insisted he'd be fine,” I reminded him. “You'd best count yourself lucky that he didn't take a sip of that wine. If sniffing it did that to him, drinking it could very well have killed him.”

  Trevor looked uncomfortable.

  “You almost killed my boyfriend!” Tristan shouted at Trevor.

  “I'm sorry I almost killed Jackson,” Trevor huffed. “I guess now we know not to serve this stuff to our human patrons.”

  “You think?” I chuckled as Jackson started singing a sea shanty. I didn't even know Jackson knew any sea shanties.

  “You were going to serve god wine to humans at Moonshine?” Tristan gasped as he tried to wrestle Jackson into a seated position. He finally got him propped against the side of the picnic table.

  “Well, I was thinking about it,” Trevor sighed. “We got a whole case from Di the other day. I figured people would pay big for wine this good. We could tell them it's Greek.”

  “Gods vill pay big for vine zis good,” Kirill poured himself a glass and sniffed at it. He slid his deep blue eyes over to me and smiled before taking a sip.

  “Good point,” Trevor brightened.

  “Oh, I'm so glad you'll still be able to make a profit,” Tryst fumed. “Don't worry about us over here.”

  “Tristan,” I giggled and gestured to the very happily intoxicated Jackson. “He's fine, relax.”

  “Maybe I should have a sniff too,” Tryst made a face at me.

  “No!” We all shouted at once and Tristan started to laugh. He leaned back against the table with Jackson, who threw an arm heavily around Tristan's shoulders.

  “Here you are,” Thor huffed as he came around the side of my house. His blonde hair was tied back in a braid and he was wearing traditional Viking leathers. In short, he looked amazing. I blinked, wondering for a second if I'd somehow called Thor through the link we still shared. Sometimes if I thought about him, he'd know, sense it, through the oath he'd given me with his blood the first day we'd met. Blood to mouth, that he would protect me forever. It's kind of a big deal.

  “Thor,” I stood, shivering a little from thinking about that long ago vow of protection. “How's it going?”

  “Da, vant some vine?” Kirill had a silly grin on his face as he held up the bottle. Oh dear. I don't think I'd ever seen Kirill drunk.

  “No, thank you. We've got trouble,” Thor said, relieving my anxiety over our link but establishing some new anxiety in its place. “It's the Navajo twins, Estsanatlehi's sons. They've been spotted with Tawiskaron again.”

  “By the Thunderbirds?” I asked as Tristan watched our exchange avidly.

  “Yes,” Thor settled his sea green eyes on me. “There's also been some activity among the Navajo population that has caused concern.”

  “What kind of activity?” Trevor asked.

  “The kind that involves a lot of guns,” was Thor's grim reply.

  “Indians on a warpath!” Jackson cheered. “Kill the white man! Take back the land!”

  “What's wrong with him?” Thor frowned down at Jax.

  “Dionysus' wine,” I sighed.

  “He drank it?” Thor gasped.

  “No,” I shook my head. “He sniffed it.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yep.”

  “He's right though,” Thor nodded.

  “About what?” I dumped out my normal wine and poured me some from the deadly Dionysus bottle. I had a feeling I was going to need it.

  “Indians on the warpath,” Thor clarified. “It looks like that may be the plan.”

  Yep, I definitely needed the wine.

  And if you enjoyed this book, you may also like The Twilight Court Series by Amy Sumida. Keep reading for a sneak peek into the first book; Fairy-Struck.

  Fairy-Struck: Several types of conditions such as paralysis, wasting away, pining, and unnatural behavior resulting from an enchantment laid by an offended fairy.

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time, isn't that how all fairy tales begin? Except this isn't your average fairy tale. There are no charming princes or wicked witches within these pages and the fair maidens are more deadly than any big bad wolf. This is a fairy tale in the truest sense of the words; a story about fairies... the real story.

  My name is Seren Sloane and I'm an Extinguisher. That will mean nothing to you, I'm sure, so let me go back a little further. No one knows the true origins of the fey, I don't think even the fey themselves remember, but theories abound. One theory has them evolving alongside us but where we advanced in groups, banding together to become stronger, the fey morphed out of those outcast predators who were too wild for a pack. Those who don't believe in evolution, think instead that the fey stem from divine creations, angels fallen from God's grace. Yet another tale insists they were gods themselves, or demi-gods, led by a mother goddess named Danu.

  A final theory suggests they were not gods or angels or outcasts, merely nomads from an advanced civilization. The Scythians or Sidheans, from which the word sidhe originates. Myths tell of these talented Sidhe coming to Ireland where they flung about their magic and generally wrecked havoc until the aggrieved locals fought back and forced the fey to retreat into their raths, holy shrines now known as fairy mounds. History has disguised the raths as burial mounds even though originally, they were thought to be royal palaces for portal guardians. Although I cannot validate the rest of the tale, I do know this; the fey don't live under mounds of
dirt. The original descriptions strike closer to the truth. The raths shrouded portals not corpses. Hidden paths to the fairy world, a realm laid parallel to ours and not at all underground.

  Anyway, we did just fine living side by side with them until humans started destroying the environment around those entrances to Fairy. Fairies don't like it when you mess with nature and when they stroll from their magical abodes to find that mess strewn all over their backyard, they get even more pissy. So they began to fling the mess back. All those old stories about fairies stealing babies and striking people with wasting diseases, stem from this time period. Things got real bad, so bad that those of us who had the gift of clairvoyance and could actually see fairies, joined together to defend the human race.

  The first Human-Fey war erupted across Eire, now known as Ireland, and the losses on both sides were staggering. After the third war, a grudging truce was finally attained and councils were created to mediate between the races and support the truce with laws approved by both sides. A good start to be sure but laws flounder and fail if they can't be enforced. Both councils conceded jurisdiction over their people to the other, agreeing upon the penalties to be meted out should someone be found guilty of a crime. Rules for determining guilt and administering justice were set into place and military units were sanctioned to carry out the verdicts of the councils.

  The fairies created the Wild Hunt. They gathered the fiercest, most terrifying of their people and trained them to stalk the shadows of our world, watching us like guardian angels until one of us breaks the law. Then the angels become devils who do much more than watch. Trust me when I say you don't want to ever meet a member of the Hunt.

  To police the fey, we created the Extinguishers. Formed of the five great psychic families who originally defended humanity, the Extinguishers inspire a fair amount of fear as well. Armed with clairvoyance among other talents which varies by person but can include; telekinesis, pyrokinesis, telepathy, and psychometry, we also have some serious combat skills. Most humans don't have the ability to see a fairy unless that fairy wants to be seen, so both council members and Extinguishers must at least possess clairvoyance. The Council keeps an eye out for humans with exceptional psychic abilities so they can recruit more into their fold but Extinguishers are born into the job. I'm one of those lucky few.