“Nemesis promised a reckoning. I don’t think Sabrina knows anything about physical combat. There’s no way for me to prepare her magically,” Brandon worried aloud. The thought of Sabrina wielding a gladius and shield against a more powerful opponent like Nemesis sent a shiver up his spine.
“You work on the physical training. I’ll see what I can do about the magical side of things,” Hadrian offered. He finished his mug and let it hit the table with a hard thump. A prideful smile spread across his face, and he gave a short chuckle. “I would have paid good money to have seen the look on Nemesis’s face. Did Mea Dulcis really pound her head onto the floor?”
“Yep, MMA style. You’d have been proud of her. She gave ‘ground and pound’ a whole new meaning, war-face included,” Brandon said, feeling a little prideful himself.
While she always went out of her way to hide it, Sabrina possessed a goddess’s temper and Eleanor’s ruthlessness. Brandon found out just how ruthless the night he tried to wrestle her to the ground. They were just playing, but something triggered a reaction in Sabrina. Her scent took on the aroma of hot Savanna grass and hunting lioness. She went from jovial playing to dirty pool. He felt certain that while Eleanor never taught Sabrina to fight properly, the warrior demi-goddess did teach her niece to win by any means necessary, even if that meant ambushing her opponent from behind wearing nothing but lace panties and a matching bra.
Hadrian gave a shrug and sighed. “To be young again. At her physical age, I was a soldier serving in Germany with the Legio I Minervia under General Trajan. When Emperor Nerva died, I rushed back to tell Trajan personally. I remember how fervent, and rash, those years were. Her mother had a hot temper, but one expects a goddess to possess passionate feelings. Mea Dulcis will need to understand fighting with honor. I’m very proud of her bravery in attacking Nemesis, but what she did would never be allowed in the formal arena. Unless Nemesis breaks the rules first, anything less will be a death sentence on us all. Sabrina needs to understand she can’t attack from behind or kill without permission. There will only be one physical weapon allowed and a predetermined selection of defenses. She may not know most gladiatorial fights weren’t fatal. Nemesis may have relented her vengeance on you, but she seems to have transferred her attentions to Sabrina. With you, her actions were based on nothing more than her need to fulfill a duty and hide a shame. There were no rules, except her personal standards. With Sabrina, who is at the very least a demi-godess and possibly a goddess in her own right, Nemesis will have no choice but to issue a formal challenge with a referee. Sabrina needs to be ready for whtever challenge Nemesis chooses,” Hadrian said. He stood, scooting his chair on the floor, and went to the sink. Washing his mug, he paused and looked out of the window. He went back to rinsing out the pink-tinged soap bubbles. “Are we expecting company?”
Brandon stood up casually, went to the sink, and began rinsing his mug, too. If someone was watching them, he did not want the stranger to know they spotted him. He glanced up from time to time, hoping to see the visitor.
At the far edge of the tree line, a man in an Armani black suit, a white shirt, and a black tie stood with his hands clasped in front of him. The stranger did not bother trying to blend into the dark woods behind him. Even though it was night, the man wore designer sunglasses.
“Seems odd, don’t you think?” Hadrian asked in a way that sounded more like a statement. “If they wanted to visit, they should come to the door. If they wanted to spy, they should try hiding.” He put his mug in the dish drainer and returned to his seat.
“Maybe he can’t get passed Sabrina’s wards and is waiting for us to leave,” Brandon suggested. “He looks familiar, but I can’t place the face. Those sunglasses make it hard to see his eyes, but there’s something about his bearing that makes me think we might know him. At any rate, the suit makes him a spot-on match for the goons in town and Cybil’s follow up appointment. I’m guessing he’s their boss.” He rifled through his memories, trying to place a name with the face. He finished cleaning his mug and added it to the dish drainer.
“I’m worried about Sabrina,” Brandon added. “She should have been up by now.” He came back to the table and sat beside Hadrian. “What if there’s something wrong?”
“Wrong? She’s resting. What could be wrong?”
* * * *
Midnight’s Jewel and keeper of the Jewel of Darkness, hear me and rise.
Sabrina’s eyes fluttered open. Something or someone called to her. Inhaling deeply, she caught the hint of blood wafting up from downstairs. She ignored the voices of her father and husband talking. A powerful magic spoke to her from the darkness outside.
She sat up, glancing around for something to wear. Her lavender robe lay at the foot of the bed. Snatching it up quickly, she stood and turned to the window.
At the far edge of the tree line, a man in an expensive Italian suit stood watching the house. The moonlight seemed to pool around him like a silvery spotlight. His face held no expression, but his perfect stillness told her he was not a human.
Slipping on her robe, Sabrina debated what to do. The wards she placed allowed her to pass freely, but Brandon and her father might see her cross the open meadow. If she went downstairs, they would know she rose for the evening and would want to talk about girlfriends past.
You are a goddess. Choose where you want to go and so you shall be.
Sabrina closed her eyes and thought about the tree line. She knew every blade of grass and stone in the meadow, having lived on the property for nearly one hundred years. She imagined the feel of the summer grass, dry with drought, rough under her bare feet. She remembered the way it felt to run through the trees and chase fireflies as a child. The jewel around her neck hummed with power, and she knew the dark rainbows and hazy shadows danced around her.
Dizziness filled her head, confusing her inner lioness. The floor beneath her feet dropped away, replaced by the dry, summer grass. Singing insects replaced the silence of her room. She opened her eyes to see the strange man standing a few yards away to her right. Her protective shield played in the air around her.
He seemed to look at her magic and ignore it. However, he appeared not to dismiss it, either. Wary but not worried.
“Who are you?” Sabrina asked. Her lioness took a moment to recover from the travel but remained on the defensive. Dark rainbows and shadows still danced around her.
“Someone who can help you,” he said in a deep, smooth, sultry voice.
Sabrina took in his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and thick upper arms and legs that strained his suit fabric. His square jaw and chiseled features not hidden by the sunglasses screamed sexy. She thought he would have looked more at home in battle armor than the modern business attire.
He could be Brandon’s brother.
“That doesn’t answer my question. I asked who you were, not what you can do for me,” she said, cautiously checking his magic. He felt like a celestial being, but had a very earthbound vibe about him.
He smirked. “I know who is after you and what she is capable of. I know you are the daughter of Aradia, Goddess of Midnight. Dis Pater pronounced you Keeper of the Jewel of Darkness, much to his wife’s displeasure. I know Diana, goddess of the moon and Queen of the Witches has forsaken you, and I know that the Queen of the Underworld wishes you ill,” he said without answering her question. He remained perfectly motionless, his hands still clasped in front of him.
Sabrina made an impatient sound as she huffed. “Well, good for you. Since you’re clearly not interested in getting to the point, I’m leaving,” she said and closed her eyes. The beginning feelings of being lightheaded began to fill her mind.
“I can save him,” the man said abruptly.
Sabrina’s eyes opened wide. “What do you mean you can save him? Save who? You sent those men after me in town, didn’t you?” Anxiety threaded its way into her chest, tightening the muscles around her lungs. Her breath seemed to fight its way in and out before she was
able to control her fear.
“I only wanted to know what you are. They would never have laid a finger on you. Now, back to the problem at hand. Do you think Nemesis will stop with you? He was her lover, the only blot on her otherwise perfect record. Eliminating you is only the beginning,” the man said in a flat, calm tone. His words were filled with conviction.
A sly smile spread across his face. “You could have killed her today. Impressive,” he said. One hand fell to his side. The other slipped into the pocket of his expensive suit. He pulled out a card. “I can help you become more powerful than you could ever imagine. When you decide you don’t want your husband killed by his ex-lover, let me know.” He offered her the card.
She took it and looked down at the print. The card was blank, except for one line of instruction.
Think of me and ask.
Sabrina frowned at the cryptic message. “Ask what?” She looked up to find the stranger gone. The only evidence of his presence was the trodden grass where he had stood and the card in her hand.
She closed her eyes and began to think of her bedroom. Dizziness filled her head, and she felt herself begin to fade. The grass under her bare feet slipped away and became the solid floor with the braided rug in her bedroom. She opened her eyes in time to see the bedroom door open.
Brandon stuck his head in and paused. “Oh good, you’re up. I was getting worried about you,” he said, sounding relieved. The look of concern in his dark-brown eyes changed to guilt. He opened the door enough to enter the room and closed it back quietly. He started to say something, but she cut him off before he could speak.
“I have a few things I’d like to say to you, but we need to get everyone on the same page. Go back downstairs. I’ll get dressed and join you and Hadrian in a few minutes,” she said a little brusquely. While not her intent to give him an order, she realized he took it as such when his guilty look hardened into something defiant. “I’ve had two goddesses and a handful of strange men visit me in the last few days and found my aunt’s shop wrecked by three teenage wannabe demons. I think the least you can do is to let me get dressed alone and come down for breakfast.” She shuffled past him around the end of the bed and went to her closet. Grabbing her favorite pair of blue jeans and a white cotton tee, she turned around to find him gone.
She sighed. The hot summer day left her room feeling stuffy. She debated exchanging the denim pants for something lighter-weight. Since her transformation, temperatures no longer bothered her, but keeping her secret around humans meant blending in with clothes. Remembering her last encounter with celestial beings, she opted to keep the jeans and go with sneakers.
After she dressed, she did her best to pull her massive pile of blue-black curls up into a high ponytail. She carefully wove the long tresses into a thick, rope-like braid, binding the end with a black scrunchie. Trying to plan ahead, she skipped the earrings and settled for a belt.
When she reached the kitchen, a warm mug of blood sat on the table waiting for her. Brandon and Hadrian were nowhere in sight. She heard them talking on the front porch, picked up her food, and made to join them. Listening carefully, she assessed the situation before interrupting.
“Don’t assume she’s angry,” Hadrian said consolingly. “Have you ever known an angry woman to not say something? Whatever you do, don’t tell her to calm down. That never works and only makes them angrier.”
“I think I liked it better when they just cried and claimed everything was fine. It never was, but they gave you an out,” Brandon said, sounding annoyed. “She all but dismissed me. I’ve never been dismissed by anyone but you. Ever.”
“What if you found out by a third-party that she and Clay Birch were lovers? What if someone told you without warning? What would you do?” Hadrian asked.
He held up his hand to stop Brandon from speaking. “Yes, I know the fairy is dead and turned to dust in her defense, but remember. If things had worked out as Eleanor planned, she would be Mrs. Clay Birch and married to her lifelong best friend. She might even be a mother by now. Eleanor kept him as a sort of bodyguard, but it was her deepest wish for Sabrina to experience life as a half witch and be with him. Think about it and apply that idea to her,” he said and then paused.
Brandon made a choking noise.
Hadrian laughed softly. “Maybe you should refrain from drinking while we have this conversation,” he recommended.
There was a long silence.
“I’d be mad, really mad. When you put it that way, I’m surprised she defended me,” Brandon admitted. “I’m not sure I would have done the same in her place with no more information than she has.”
Sabrina drew in a large gulp of air. The realization that her husband might hold a former lover she failed to disclose against her hurt deeply. She worked hard to separate Brandon’s past from their present. Some days seemed easier than others, and Sabrina took comfort in knowing there were no offspring from those centuries of trysts.
Enough was enough. She decided she needed to speak her mind and then put some space between them for the evening. She grabbed her mug, downed the thick, coppery fluid, and stormed onto the porch. Her pendant flared to life as the lioness within roared.
Sabrina shoved the screen door open hard. “I’m only going to say this once. First off. Yes, you should have told me about Nemesis. Anytime a potentially psycho ex-girlfriend is in your past, you’re obligated to tell your current girlfriend or wife. Especially since she’s now decided she wants my head on the proverbial chopping block. I don’t care if you screwed the entire European continent. I put a lot of effort in overlooking your playboy days, provided you aren’t cheating on me. Second, I hate what you’ve done to my shop. The demon kids seem like nice people, but Aunt Eleanor would roll over in her grave, if she had one, with what you’ve done to the store. Lastly, I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but you’re an ass. An unmitigated, long-eared, gray-furred, braying ass. You wouldn’t defend me against an attack if I’d been banging Clay and not told you? For your information, the only reason I came to you a virgin was because I thought of Clay like a brother. People shouldn’t fuck their brothers. Heaven knows he tried hard enough to convince me otherwise.”
She paused and threw her hands up in the air. “That’s it! I need some fresh air.”
“Sabrina, please. Let me explain,” Brandon said and reached out to take her hand.
She brushed him away and stepped back. “I’m too mad to talk right now. This is a conversation best left until I calm down. I will tell you this. I love you. I want nothing more than to be with you, no matter what or who you did before we were a couple, but we have some things to get straight. Now, I expect you to give me some space and let me think,” she said, doing her best to not scream all the things her lioness prompted her to say.
Brandon got out of his rocking chair, allowing it to scoot back and scrape the house slightly. “Sabrina—”
Hadrian chimed in, cutting Brandon off. “Of course, Mea Dulcis, take whatever time you need. Brandon and I will make a few phone calls and see to some neglected work,” he said reassuringly, giving Brandon a hard look that dared him to contradict the emperor’s words.
Sabrina covered her face and thought of the nearby creek. The world slipped away and a moment later the only sound she heard was water babbling. She dropped to her hand and knees and looked into the moonlit surface.
Her reflection stared back, distorted by the ripples. Alone with the silence, she let the stresses of the previous few days crash into her, and she wept.
Chapter 12
Hadrian gave a tired groan. “Brandon, my boy, didn’t I tell you I wanted Mea Dulcis to be happy and what I would do to you if she wasn’t?” He gripped the rocking chair arms tight enough to dig his fingertips into the wood. The chair arms cracked with the pressure.
Brandon tensed. He remembered very well that conversation. Who could forget a father and son-in-law talk involving death and dismemberment? Some fathers are just spewing idle
threats, but Brandon knew Hadrian meant every word. Being in organized crime, he knew from experience just how slow and painful Hadrian made torture.
“You had better find a way to make Mea Dulcis happy again and soon. In less than a year, she has lost her beloved Aunt Eleanor, found her mother exiled, lost her identity as a half witch, tried to become a vampire to escape her true self, been kidnapped by Charon, and was hunted by both Thanatos and the Queen of the Underworld. Dealing with powers she doesn’t always know how to control adds to her stress.
“Now, I am willing to admit it’s a lot for a young woman to take, but this situation of keeping secrets and then using a double standard is unacceptable. I’ve known you a long time. You’ve been a good friend and a faithful servant. I even asked you to seduce her to get Midnight’s Jewel before I knew she was both my daughter and the jewel I sought. There is sin in my mistake, but I asked for forgiveness and accept my eternal shame. But she is my daughter, and I’ll not have you make her more unhappy than she needs to be. You are to find her and apologize immediately. She must receive training in hand to hand combat, and you must teach her,” the elder vampire confessed.
“Why me?” Brandon asked. “You spent time in the arena. She’s not mad at you.” The thought of an angry Sabrina holding a blade aimed at him made his insides crawl. Eleanor’s old wound gave a sudden throb as a reminder of a demi-goddess’s wrath.
Hadrian groaned. “My boy, you are being as dense as lead. Use the exercise as a tool to repair the damage you and this situation have caused. Let it be a binding force between teacher and pupil, husband and wife,” he said with annoyance. His expressions lightened a little. “Let her put you on your ass a few times.”
“You know what weapons Nemesis will choose. Where am I going to get gladiatorial weapons in this day and age?” Brandon’s agitation began bleeding through his voice. He took a moment to steady himself and hoped robbing a museum was not Hadrian’s answer.
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