“Well, okay, but you killed me before I could bind the elements and rise. I’m not a god.”
“That’s good, I don’t like gods very much.”
From behind us, I hear Loki’s cough, and I ignore it.
I slide my fingers under Jack’s shirt, tracing those hard abs that draw tight at my touch before running my hand straight down his jeans. Jacks always been a commando type of guy and I see things haven’t changed. Or rather I feel. Damn, it is good to be back.
My hand twists around his raging hard-on and Jack sucks in a harsh breath. “Not now, princess.”
“Why not?” I plead, quickly getting into a rhythm that has Jack’s eyes rolling back in his head. “Surely there is a broom closet hidden somewhere in this place?”
Loki clears his throat. “I like a nice steamy reunion as well as the next god of chaos, but you two need to focus. I don’t think we want Jokul reneging on another vow.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” I look at the god of chaos over my shoulder, without taking my hand from Jack’s pants.
“You know who I am.”
“Yes. I do. And what you are. You’re not our friend.”
“Perhaps not, but I do have some family feeling, believe it or not.”
“What the hell does family have to do with it?” I finally withdraw my hand. Jack gasps, leaning back against the wall, closing his eyes and muttering something about baseball under his breath.
“Didn’t Jokul ever tell you? He’s my brother.”
Jack is related to the god of chaos? Not just related, but siblings. Then again, I can’t talk. My family is… I think of Jett’s face before she took off.
Honestly, I’m not sure what my family is anymore.
“Really?” I stick out my hand. “I’m his future wife. How’s it going?”
He looks at my hand, then at my face before raising an eyebrow. “Rather pressing at the moment, as I think I’ve mentioned. We’d best save the niceties for later.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “It’s great to meet you and all, but can you just run along for a moment or thirty?”
“Umm, sorry, but no. Everyone back home will be pleased to know Herne’s been dealt with—”
“Home?” I hiss at Jack.
“He’s talking about Ásgarðr,” he whispers in my ear, then nips it. “And don’t start.”
“Start what? I mean, yeah, I might be curious. Do you know Thor?”
Jack sighs.
“—I believe you mentioned an appointment, Brother dear?”
“Shit. Krueger. The werewolves, ” Jack mutters.
Unease tightens my stomach, chasing away some of the giddy relief I’ve been riding. Luna. “That can wait.”
“No, it can’t. I’ve no wish to be breaking any more vows, Seph. We’ve tempted karma enough, don’t you think?”
He has a point.
“We have a few more things to settle before you go,” Loki says. Then he explains.
Jack calls Stephen. Less than twenty minutes later, the bruins meet us on a gravel road somewhere just south of Canada.
My undeadness is greeted with absolute, stunned silence.
Then Dominic lashes out, convinced this is some sort of sick trick on Jack’s part. It’s only when I shut the bruin up by giving him a hug that everyone settles down enough for me to explain. Stephen keeps looking at me and I can see the question in his eyes, but I can’t answer it yet. Not until I talk to my sister.
Five minutes after that bit of excitement, I’m face to face with my ex-best friend. The circumstances are less than ideal. The bruins have the small island surrounded. Spring is in full-force now, even this far north, thanks to me. Green veils the trees, and the waterways sparkle blue and silver in the warmth of the sun. A shiver works down my spine anyway as I look into those eerily beautiful features. My last memory of Luna is seeing her wolf’s muzzle wet with Georg’s blood.
I can’t forgive her for that. Even knowing what she was facing, what she was promised, I just can’t. She looks pleased to see me, though, after the initial double take.
“Heard you died.” She gives Jack a sidelong look, before smiling at me as if we’re not accompanied by close to ten angry bruins looking to collect a blood debt. “Guess I should know better than to listen to rumors spread by certain people, eh, baby witch?”
Her eyes are full-on white now, milky and pale instead of their previous pink. They make my insides roll. By all rights, Luna should’ve been dead months ago, but from what Loki said, Herne enjoyed keeping her alive while her pack died one after another.
Not that the god of chaos was fussed about that. He seemed more amused than anything else until Jack threatened to shut off the northern lights for the next century or so. Slightly less gleeful, Loki told us that Herne had been giving Luna just enough of the real cure to keep her alive while slowly killing the rest of her pack. It’s enough to make anyone lose their mind, but she seems sane at the moment, her words lacking none of their usual bite.
“I wish you killing Georg was a rumor,” I say. “Goddamn you, sunshine.” Despite my best intentions, my voice is shaking. I’ve had enough of death for one day. But there’s going to be no getting around this one.
Luna knows it, too.
Then Stephen surprises us both.
“Where are the rest of those that attacked our king?” He’s frowning, looking around the marshy glen at the handful of wolves. None of the scant dozen looks more than twenty. There are a handful of cubs, too, almost toddlers, hiding amongst the trees. A couple of the bears stir, looking uncomfortable. Bruins have a soft spot for children. Even those of their enemies.
“All dead.” Luna lifts her chin. “I’m the only one of the old regime left.”
Stephen looks around the circle of bruins. Dominic is the only bear I recognize and Ajax is nowhere to be seen. But in the grunts, snorts and baring of teeth that follow Luna’s words, a consensus seems to be reached. A moment later, Stephen nods.
“Then you’re the only one we have an issue with. So let’s settle it. You and me. One on one.” Stephen’s words are unmistakably a death sentence. Luna’s strong. And despite the way moon madness ravages the brain and eventually shuts it down entirely, until the very end, it only increases a wolf’s strength.
But there is a reason wolves are pack animals and bears aren’t.
Stephen will tear her apart—but I also know the soon-to-be bruin king’s actions are meant to be a mercy. To be fair.
At least as fair as things get in our world.
“He’s right and you know it.” Jack’s voice is low in my ear as all around us the bruins roar in response to Stephen’s words. The small, ragged band of werewolves is silent, unblinking. “It’s the only way they can balance what happened.”
I nod once, shortly, but it hurts anyway.
To my surprise, Luna is smiling when I turn around with my hands clenched so tightly my nails dig into my palms hard enough to break the skin.
“No last ditch effort to save me, baby witch?”
“No. You deserve to die for what you did to Georg. But …I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”
Her chin lifts. “It’s worth it to let my people die in peace.”
I glance over my shoulder at Stephen, whose face is a mask. He looks huge in the half-light, a monster formed of shadows. His bear is clawing its way out, gleaming black fur rippling over his pale skin, taking over. Until only his blue eyes retain any shred of humanity. He looks at me and I swear there’s understanding along with the blood-chilling resolve.
“He’ll rip you apart.”
“I’ll go down fighting. I think this one will keep his word even when I’m dead. But you’ll make sure of that for me …won’t you? Don’t let him kill them all.” For the first time, I realize Luna’s scared. Really scared.
I let go of Jack to yank her close.
“I’ll do more than that,” I whisper in her ear. “I have the cure, Luna. The rea
l cure.” Loki told us about the cures Herne had been hoarding. Ones for moon madness and wasting sickness and other nasty brews he’d concocted over the years and not yet released. Jett stole one of those cures for Syana and I have another just like it in my pocket, courtesy of one very confusing god of chaos.
Even in the midst of all this shit, my sister took pains to ensure my friend was safe. I’ve got a whole lot of talking to do with her and my mom, but right now Luna’s staring at me, those white eyes glistening. She swallows hard and nods, forcing that smile back onto her face.
“Well alrighty then, baby witch. I got some bruin ass to kick.”
Luna turns to Stephen and gives another short nod, before looking over the remnants of her pack. A ragged, wet-behind-the-ears dozen remaining of what was once a pack fifty strong. Without Stephen’s mercy and Loki’s light-fingeredness they’d be done for, just like Cer—Herne planned.
It doesn’t take long.
Luna shifts, a sleek white wolf leaping for the giant black bear. He bats her away with a massive paw. She slams into a nearby boulder with a rib-splitting crack but is on her feet in seconds, going for him again.
Whether for my sake or the watching werewolves, I don’t know, but within a few minutes the massive bear rises on its hind legs for the final blow, towering above the white wolf. Luna doesn’t cower or whine. Instead, she shifts at the last second, looking over her shoulder at me and winking right before Stephen’s claws rake across her throat, ripping her head from her body. I close my eyes, but I can hear the blood flying across the arena along with the awful thump of Luna’s head hitting the earth.
Time seems to slow down, drawing the moment out, as if death makes a hole in its fabric. One that’s swallowed up quickly as the bruins’ shouts bring me out of my daze.
I open my eyes to see the fat, red droplets still pattering to the ground at my feet. Soaking into the rain-wet earth along with my tears.
“At least he made it clean.” Jack’s arms snake around my middle.
A second later Stephen is there, closing my numb fingers over the vial that my sister left on his desk. “I already used it on Syana. She was better in a few hours. Even Ajax can’t smell a trace of the moon madness on her anymore. Once we’re gone, give it to them.”
I stare up at the bruin in shock, but he’s already turning away, his back stiff.
Jack raises his eyebrows before tightening his hold on me.
“Well, I didn’t expect him to go quite that far.”
“He’ll forgive Jett now.” I twist to look up at Jack, wanting all the bad stuff to be at an end. “Don’t you think?”
Jack looks uncomfortable. He knows I can’t take much more. Not after the day we’ve had. Hell, the year we’ve had. The decade? Shit.
“I don’t know, princess,” he says slowly. “Stephen has a code of honor I don’t pretend to understand, but killing your own blood, even with the intent to save them….” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure a bruin can wrap their head around that, especially a bruin like him. Are you going to be able to forgive her? That seems the better question to me.”
And I don’t know the answer. I just don’t fucking know. But I do know one thing.
“Take me home, Jack.”
21
When Jack lets go of the wind, we’re in the peony garden. My mom is standing there, talking to a very worn-out-looking Jett. All trace of Mrs. Rudd is gone. It’s just my mother, with her long, curly golden hair and quick, expressive hands. A memory hits me, sudden and vivid.
I watch my mom plucking dead blooms and tucking them into the basket with quick efficiency. The crackle of the dried buds falling into the bottom of the basket soft and rhythmic. “Why don’t we have a daddy?”
The rhythm skips a beat, then continues. “Don’t be a goose. Everyone has a daddy.”
“Then where’s mine?” I rip a bit of wood sorrel from the patch of weeds I’m supposed to be pulling and stick it in my mouth. The sour lemony taste accompanies my mother’s words.
“Sometimes men get scared, Sephie,” she says simply. “And that makes them mean. So mean that you’re better off without them.”
I look at my sweet mother with her hat low over her face, golden curls brushing her bare arms. But even as young as I am, I know you can’t judge a book by its cover. My mother is plenty scary when she wants to be.
“Was he magic, like us?”
“Yes, he was magic, but not like me. Not even like you.” She tweaks my nose, which makes me giggle, until I see her eyes. They’re not their normal happy blue. Instead they’re dark and worried...and sad, so sad.
I blink, looking into those eyes once again. They’re not sad this time. They’re tired, wary and….relieved. My hand tightens on Jack’s. This is why she mentioned the peonies in her note. She was trying to warn me who I was up against.
“You knew I’d kill him, didn’t you?”
Before my mother can answer, there is a shout behind me.
“Seph!”
It’s Syana running through the brown stalks, looking better than I’ve seen her look since before that horrible night on the beach. Ajax is right behind, his face haggard, but pleased. Exactly like a guy who’s seen a glimpse of hell and escaped its fires with only some minor singeing.
Sy falls into my arms, laughing and crying and then she’s got me laughing and crying. Then she swats the back of my head. Hard. Jack lifts his eyebrows, but Ajax just shrugs at him.
“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again, you bitch.”
“I don’t plan on it.” I turn to my mom, not bothering to temper the steel in my tone. “Do I?”
“No, no.” She sounds a little subdued, especially when Jack turns his gaze on her. “There’s no need for anything so dramatic anymore.”
“Isn’t that good to know? Too bad someone couldn’t have warned me before it all came to me dying.” I’m yelling now. “And killing my goddamn father.”
“I didn’t plan that part, darling. I promise,” Mom whispers. “I thought Jack was meant to finish him, not you.”
“But the rest of it…that was you, wasn’t it?”
She grimaces. “It was a necessary evil. All of it.”
“Having my own sister put a sword in my back, necessary? Do tell.”
She looks at Jett, her face downcast. I can’t help it; seeing my mom like this makes me feel guilty. She is a very pretty woman. Delicate and blond, not curvy like me and Ana and Jett, but a bit taller and quite slim. Like Carly, though without the fire in her hair. Mom has a vague, dreamy look about her, one that always makes you forget how sharp she is. Right now, though, she just looks lost.
“Was there ever a real Mrs. Rudd?” I finally ask, needing to start somewhere.
“Well, no, not exactly. See,” she hastens on before I can interrupt, seemingly glad I’m not shouting at her anymore, “that story I told you about Janice was true. She’s actually in Bermuda right now, learning to scuba dive.”
“But how did you steal her power?”
Mom frowns at me.
“To see ghosts?” I snap.
“Oh, that. Vampire fang, of course. It’s not just for FTCs, you know. Steals psychic powers off of humans just as easily.”
“And the prophecy, was that you, too?” I had thought all along that meter of that damn rhyme seemed familiar.
“You could say that,” she hedges. “See, it was actually a rhyme I made up to help me remember how to fix things. You know how I like my rhymes.” Doesn’t the whole world. Mother fucking Goose. “But then it sort of got away from me.”
I throw up my hands.
Mom is talking fast again. “The queen thing is all true. Jett is Summer, at least she’s destined to be. All your sisters will be queens eventually. Carly’s Autumn, Ana’s Winter, of course. But you’re already Spring. Ice, water and rebirth. Jack gave you the first two, but I’d say you earned that last one. Three elements. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Really, Mom? Really. But I don�
�t say the words aloud, I just squeeze Jack’s hand even tighter. From the look on his face and the hard line of his jaw, he’s right there with me. Syana, though, is amazed. She still has her arm around me and looks fascinated.
“Spring. This explains so much! Like why all the guys fall for you. You’re the next best thing to a fertility goddess. Oh my god. Persephone. Even your name was a clue.” She shakes her head. “Your mom is fucking crazy, but kind of brilliant, Seph.”
Mom beams at Syana, but I’m not as amused.
“Exactly when did Jack’s spell make me an elemental?”
“It didn’t, actually.”
What? I frown. “But you just said Jack gave his powers to me.”
“Jack’s love gave the magic to you—not his spell,” she corrects gently. “His allowing himself to trust after all those years. Shared magic. A binding of powers. He gave you ice first, probably because it was his first element and the one strongest inside him. But then you were separated and you never figured out how to use it until—“
“The wolves,” Jack breathes. His fingers tighten on mine.
My mother nods. “And I am thinking he passed on water just recently because he was calling it when he died.”
“How did you get water anyway?” I look at Jack, puzzled. “So fast and all? I mean, I know you’re strong but doesn’t mastering an element take like years and years?”
“Styx helped me.” Jack’s jaw tightens. “I asked him to.”
My eyes widen. Styx helping Jack. Jack asking Styx for help. What has the world come to while I was dead? “Really? Why—”
“Another time, princess.” He squeezes my hand again and jerks his head at my mother.
Oh yeah. One thing at a time.
I shake my head at her. “You mean because Jack was calling water when I killed him. Thanks to that damn spellwork of yours. Herne said I was an abomination. That things aren’t meant to come back to life. Maybe he was right.”
Mom sighs. “You’re going to listen to your father now? That’s not true, Seph. The whole world comes back to life every year. Spring is rebirth. You were always destined to be a part of that magic. You just needed to learn how to use it properly. Or else the future was not going to be so bright—for anyone.” My mother sighs again. “That’s what I showed Jack and Jett, though I didn’t show him why.”
Roses & Rye (Toil & Trouble Book 3) Page 14