Half Bad: A Reverse Harem Goddess Romance (Godhunter Book 31)

by Amy Sumida

  “Then why do you have to cast a spell now?”

  “Because only witch magic can give me what I need.”

  “Do you need our rings for spell?” Kirill asked me.

  Of course, he knew exactly what I was going to do. After my rant the other night, how could he not?

  “No, I'll use mine as a bridge. It should be fine,” I assured him.

  “Can I still watch?” Lesya asked.

  “Me too?” Zariel added.

  “Zare, this is a mommy and daughter thing,” Sam said gently.

  “No, it's okay.” I waved Zariel over. “You're family too, Zariel. Of course, you can watch.”

  “Yay!” Zariel jumped up, her dark curls bouncing and her hazel eyes alight with excitement.

  Lesya got up and took Zariel's hand, just as excited to have her friend with her. I glanced at the wolf and cat pile to see if Vero wanted to come too, but he was passed out, making tiny snoring noises that harmonized with his father's rumbling breaths and Nick's kitty snuffling. I chuckled and took Lesya's hand to lead the girls into the palace.

  We took the golden elevator up to the fifth floor, then headed to the South corner where an arched passage opened on a spiraling staircase. We went up the stairs to the top of the tower, where an open, circular, stone space—stocked with everything I might need for spellwork—waited. I had equipped every tower with the tools and common ingredients for witchcraft, but I kept my spellbooks in the library. I didn't need a book this time, though; I knew this spell by heart. I should, I'd written it.

  Writing a spell isn't as hard as it sounds. Once you know the fundamentals of the type of spell you want to craft, it's simple to adjust it to suit your needs. For making our rings, I took a basic charging spell and added a locating spell to it. Once that was done, all it needed were a few words to add specificity.

  South is associated with Fire and lions, making it doubly powerful for me, which is why I chose it for the crafting. You'd think it would be associated with dragons too because of Fire, but that's the North: dragons and... owls. I paused in the middle of gathering the things I needed, an image of the owl man staring at me, his fingers shaped like bird claws. I shook the memory away and focused on the task at hand. It didn't matter who those owls were, just as long as they handled Texas' snake problem as promised. If not, we'd be having words.

  “Okay, I need you two to be quiet now,” I warned the girls. “Just sit down over here.”

  I motioned to a spot that would be far enough away from my workspace to not be distracting but would be within my circle and close enough for them to see everything. The girls nodded solemnly and sat down. I felt it too—the space had a sacredness to it that made you want to whisper. That's what happens when you cast spells, especially in a magical realm. The place where you cast them remembers. The very air remembers.

  I laid a white, circular cloth down on the gray stone then carried the rest of my things over: a bowl of water, a bowl of salt, an incense burner with dragon's blood incense, a black candle, and my athame. I cast my circle around the cloth and the girls, calling on the four directions even though I was in the South Tower. These were all minor steps that I probably could have skipped if I had to, especially since I was in a warded territory in the God Realm. But they enhanced the spell and set the tone. When a circle of salt surrounded me and the girls, its tiny grains glowing softly with magic, I took a seat on the cloth and centered myself.

  First things first: I had to make the ring. I took the athame and used it to cut a lock of my hair. Some witches would sniff disdainfully at me for using my sacred athame for such a base action as cutting, but in my opinion, an athame is a tool and tools are merely receptacles for magic; they become what you intend them to be. I intended my athame to be used for spellcraft and that included cutting things needed for the spell. It worked very well too, slicing my hair like a razor. The lock was a curl and it wrapped around my finger as if it knew what it was meant to be. I called on my territory magic and changed that piece of myself into a gold band—a ring that would fit perfectly on Viper's finger. Then I laid the ring on the cloth before me.

  I could feel the Aether pulsing expectantly. I wouldn't be able to trace through it from there—I'd have to go to the tracing room downstairs for that—but, as a witch, I could connect to the Aether anywhere, not with my body but with my mind. It was where I'd send my spell once it was cast—the place where the magic would manifest. This was what the Fey couldn't do; this was what made witchcraft different from faerie magic and gave it endless possibilities. The Aether. In that realm of pure magic, where gods leave memories as payment for travel and remnants of every spell ever cast by a witch lives on, my words—carried there by ritual and the magic inside me—would become reality.

  Once I was focused, I picked up the black candle in its silver holder and blew lightly upon it. The wick caught and a tiny flame came to life. The girls made soft sounds but didn't speak, their little eyes going round with wonder.

  I picked up the ring and waved it through the candle's flame as I said, “I consecrate this ring with Fire.”

  With my free hand, I lifted the stick of incense and blew upon it too. It caught fire and I blew a second time, this time without my dragon breath. The flame winked out and became an undulating swirl of smoke. I set the stick in its holder, then drew the ring through the smoke.

  “I consecrate this ring with Air.”

  I sprinkled salt over the gold.

  “I consecrate this ring with Earth.”

  I dropped the ring into the water.

  “I consecrate this ring with Water.”

  Then I shifted one finger into a claw—a lion's claw since I was in the South Tower—and used it to cut the ring finger of my left hand. I held my finger over the bowl of water and dripped my blood into it. The girls leaned forward to watch the blood swirl around the gold band as if waiting for a command. And it was.

  “By Fire, Air, Earth, and Water, and by the magic in my Spirit, I consecrate you to be ever alert to Viper. To feel what he feels and know where he is at all times. When he is scared or hurt, when he is in trouble or needs help, you will convey this to your fellow rings and show us where your master is.”

  The blood sank into the gold as I removed my diamond ring (the diamond had been formed with locks of hair from my god husbands and had a star pattern inside it) from the same finger I had cut and dropped it into the water, directly atop Viper's ring. Even underwater, the clink of their collision was audible. Physical. It vibrated up through the water—through air and smoke—and rippled the surface before it shivered across my skin. I drew the spell through me and released it into the Aether. With my mind focused on that realm, I saw the spell burst and expand. The fireworks of creation.

  I opened my eyes just in time to catch the glow as it faded from Viper's new ring.

  “So mote it be,” I whispered and fished the rings out of the water.

  “That was awesome!” Lesya declared.

  “I thought it would take longer.” Zariel scratched at her face absently.

  I chuckled and rumpled her curls. “Some spells do but this one is pretty straightforward.”

  “It was still really cool,” Zariel assured me. “Thank you for letting me watch, Aunty.”

  “Well, thank you for helping.” I slid my ring back on and tucked Viper's in my bra.

  “We helped?” Lesya asked eagerly.

  “You are both lions and this is the South Tower. The South is the direction associated with lions,” I explained. “Having you here gave the spell more potency. You two just helped protect your Uncle Viper.”

  “Yay!” The girls jumped to their feet and kept jumping.

  “Easy now,” I chided. “We still have to open the circle.”

  They went still and stared down at the salt ring on the floor as if it might burst into flames. Well, fair enough. In their world, that was entirely possible. But the salt didn't combust. It remained dormant, it's job now complete, and
after I thanked the elements and the watchtowers, I brushed a toe through the salt and declared the circle open. The girls danced over the remaining ring and started for the door.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” I stopped them and handed them each a hand broom and dustpan. “You've got one more job to do.”

  The girls grimaced at me, and I chuckled.

  “I told you that witchcraft is work.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Austin woke up before Viper. He stumbled into the dining room while we were finishing dinner. Sleepy, pale blue eyes blinked at me, then at the empty plate before me.

  “Do you want dinner or breakfast?” I asked him.

  “Yes.”

  I laughed. “There's coffee in the kitchen, a whole industrial-sized pot of it. Help yourself to it and the food.”

  “You are a saint,” Austin declared and headed toward the kitchen.

  “A goddess, actually,” Trevor drawled.

  “It's too damn early for your supernatural banter, wolfman,” Austin grumbled as he smacked the swinging door. “And by early, I mean pre-coffee.”

  Austin came back a few minutes later with a large mug in one hand and a plate full of meat and potatoes in the other. He took a seat across from me, set his plate down absently, and focused on the coffee. Once he had a few fortifying sips, he sighed, put the mug down, and started on the food.

  “Dinner, it is,” I noted, nodding to his meal choices.

  Austin looked up at me in between bites. “Did you get some sleep?”

  “No, I didn't want to miss another day with my kids.” I leaned over to kiss Vero's forehead. “Sleep can wait.”

  “Mama loves us,” Vero said solemnly.

  “Don't you forget it, kid.” I tapped his nose.

  “I'm sorry I've taken you away from them,” Austin offered.

  “Not your fault and not unusual,” I protested. “This is my life; my children understand.”

  “Mommy hunts bad people,” Lesya said, just in case Austin didn't get it.

  “That she does,” Austin agreed. “And so do I, which is why we make such good friends.”

  “The Squad is on their way, do you have time to meet with us?” Trevor asked Austin.

  Austin pulled out his phone, checked the time, and grimaced. “I barely have time to eat.”

  “I'll take you back as soon as you're done,” I said.

  “I can do that,” Re offered. “You should stay for the meeting, La-la. Plus, you still need to give Viper his ring.”

  “Is it the one ring to bind them all?” Austin asked conversationally.

  I blinked. Cocked my head. Pursed my lips as I thought about it. “Kinda. And props for the movie reference.”

  Austin lifted his head from his steak and frowned. “Kinda?”

  “It's a tracking device, essentially,” I explained. “All of my husbands—well, all except for Arach—and I have one. The rings are connected to each other. If one of us gets into trouble, the ring will alert the rest of us and tell us where that person is.”

  “But Viper didn't have a ring,” Austin concluded.

  I shook my head. “If he had, finding him would have been much simpler. In fact, we would have been alerted as soon as he was taken.”

  “Speaking of which, I'll check in with Elgin today and the surroundin' towns,” Austin said. “See if there have been any more attacks.”

  “Even if there hasn't, it doesn't mean the snakes are gone.” Azrael gave us all a grim look. “They could be going to ground, as it were, only to return later.”

  “Ve should talk to owls,” Kirill suggested as he cut up the last of Lesya's steak for her.

  “Sure, if we could find the owls,” I grumbled. “They don't seem too interested in our help or conversation.”

  “We're looking for owls now?” Torrent asked as he walked in with Artemis.

  Torr's platinum hair was slicked back and his skin had a slight flush to it. He looked like a freshly-showered prep school boy—one of the nice ones who also happened to be magical. Very Cedric Diggory. All Torrent needed was a sweater vest to go with his crisp, collared shirt. Beside him, Artemis had a similarly innocent look. Her dark, wavy hair hung to her shoulders, framing a sweet face dominated by a pair of puppy dog eyes. As far as gods went, they were innocent, at least in their natures, but they'd both been through enough trauma to turn them into hardened cynics. The fact that they weren't said a lot about them and a lot about why they were so good together.

  “We've had some unsolicited help,” I started to explain. I told them about the owl-shifters, what they did, what the one who shifted to human looked like, and what he'd said to me. “I'm assuming that they're Native American. I'm going to ask Teharon about them.”

  “Owl-shifters,” Torrent said with a note of wonder as Artie and he took their seats. “I'd love to meet one.”

  “Me too.” I grimaced. “They didn't take the time for introductions.”

  “I'd better be off,” Austin announced as he stood and picked up his plate. He took his plate into the kitchen and when he returned, Re was up and waiting for him. “Thanks for the lift,” he said to Re.

  “No problem.”

  “I'll walk you out.” I went with them but as we were leaving the dining hall, Viper came out of the elevator. “Text me if you hear anything,” I called to Austin as I changed course to intercept Viper.

  “Will do,” Austin assured me. “Good mornin'.” He nodded to Viper.

  “Hi and bye, copper.”

  “I've got something for you.” I took Viper's hand and drew him over to sit on the stairs.

  “You don't have to give me any...” he trailed off when I pulled the ring out of my bra. “Are you proposing?”

  I laughed. “No. I should have made one of these for you sooner. It's a ring like the others wear.”

  “One that can track me down?” He asked as he took it.

  “And tell us if you're in trouble.” I nodded. “I made it earlier today. My hair and blood are in that thing; I hope you'll wear it.”

  “Hair and blood, how romantic.” Viper grinned as he leaned in to kiss me. After a few tender minutes, he pulled back just a little to ask, “You wanna put it on me?”

  “With this ring?” I teased.

  “If that's what you want, starlight.” He drew the strip of my starlight hair forward.

  I pulled back further to look at him. “I thought you didn't want to get married?”

  Viper shrugged. “I don't need to. But if you want to put a ring on my finger and promise to love me, I'd like that.”

  “In that case, Viper,” I took the ring from him and slid it onto his finger, “I promise I will always love you.”

  Viper grinned as if he'd never stop. “I promise to always love you too, Vervain.”

  “That works for me.” I took his face in my hands and pulled him into another kiss.

  “Did I just witness a wedding?” Aidan asked as he came down the stairs beside us.

  “Nope.” Viper grinned again. “Just a promise and a ring.”

  “Sounds like a wedding to me,” Aidan mumbled as he headed for the dining hall. “Is there any meat left from lunch?”

  “Yep, but you'd better grab it before the God Squad gets here,” I called after him.

  Viper shot to his feet.

  “What's wrong?” I asked as he helped me up.

  “You just said there was a shortage of meat,” he growled. “I haven't eaten yet.”

  “Men.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Excuse me?” He lifted a brow. “I seem to remember a certain goddess growling over barbecue.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Now, hurry up, it's time for our promise-and-a-ring feast!”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You met the Itakupe?” Teharon asked in a shocked, hushed tone—almost reverent.

  The rest of the Squad had shown up, and while I was giving them a report on what they'd missed, Re returned from tracing Austin home. Ment
ion of the owls had shifted the conversation slightly.

  “I wouldn't say meet.” I rolled my eyes “The mere fact that I didn't know they're called the Itakupe prove that.”

  “Who are the Itakupe?” Torrent asked. “I can't find anything about them online, just some Brazilian graffiti.”

  “Itakupe is a Hidatsa Indian word for owls,” Teharon explained. “But they're not Hidatsa, not exactly.”

  “They're not of any tribe,” Mrs. E took over. “The Itakupe are of all tribes. They are a combination of beliefs—a part of all Native American Pantheons and yet bound to none.”