"That doesn't exactly sound promising."
It really didn't, but I wasn't entirely sure of how much help I could be. The princes' relationship with Chrissen—whatever that entailed—had started long before I'd ever entered the picture. The antagonism between them had been going on for years, and I doubted there would be a quick and easy fix to it.
I sighed. "I'll be your friend, Criss, but you really need to befriend them first. If I start cozying up to you, they're going to get jealous and even more pissed off. They'll take that anger out on you, and it'll make things a hundred times worse."
He stayed silent as I spoke. Probably because, while he might not have liked the words coming out of my mouth, he also knew they were true.
"But," I said, raising my brows and hopefully his spirits, "if you befriend them first, then they'll feel like you're one of the guys, rather than a threat. They'll want to include you, rather than murder you."
His mouth fell open just before he chuckled. "Gods, you have a way with words, huh?"
I grinned. "That's why Ben calls me Lexicon."
I hiked my skirts even further to keep from tripping in the grass. I thought about taking my shoes off, but the fact that we were heading to the stables kept them firmly on my feet. I did not want to step in horse shit. I'd probably puke.
Chrissen's eyes lowered to my feet and calves, and he swallowed hard before turning away.
I grinned. "What? Am I showing too much ankle for you?"
"Not nearly enough," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
He cleared his throat and spoke up. "Nothing. By all means, show as much ankle as you like."
I just laughed and shook my head.
When we reached the stables, no other princes were there. It wasn't a big surprise, though, considering we were early for lunch. A few stable hands bustled about forking hay, bringing food and water to the steads, organizing riding supplies, and so on.
A young man with blond curls was saddling my horse up in preparation for our luncheon. The sight of him made my stomach clench. The last time I was there, Gemma's stable boy crush, Tristan, had prepped my horse. Now, he too was gone. Or at least, I assumed he was the one she'd been meeting up with that night. He wasn't at the barn or anywhere else, so I was fairly certain my assumption had been correct.
Caramel, my beautiful palomino with a tan coat and creamy white mane, was waiting patiently for me to approach. I stepped closer, running my palm up her pretty face as she stared at me. She didn't huff or puff, just soaked up my attention like a sponge.
I turned to Chrissen. "Do you have a horse?"
"Yeah, the Storm King gave me one my second day at the palace. Back when I thought he was... Before I knew the atrocious things he does."
He moved to the stall directly to Carmel's left and patted the horse as its head poked through the slats of the gate. It was a rich chestnut color with a dark mane that had been tied into a tight row of bun-like knobs down its neck. It looked more like a war horse than a pet.
"What's his name?" I asked as I continued to stroke Caramel's silken coat.
Criss shrugged. "I didn't think a gift from the king deserved a name."
My heart grew heavy and sank a bit. "He can't help his involvement with the king any more than we can, Criss. You should give the poor thing a chance."
His hazel eyes bored into mine with sadness for a long moment before he turned back to his horse and stroked its muzzle. "All right. Chance it is then."
"Wait. That's what you're going to call him?"
"Sure. Why not?"
I smiled and leaned my forehead into Caramel's. "It's perfect."
"You better be talking about my ass, or we're going to have some issues," Dan called from just outside the barn.
I spun around and grinned at him as he approached. "I was talking about his horse's name. But your ass is pretty amazing."
Dan chuckled and kissed me when he reached us, slipping his wide hands around my hips. "Pretty amazing is not the same as perfect, Sexy Lexi."
"Okay, fine. It's perfect."
The emotions radiating off Chrissen in that moment were a chaotic mess. Surprise, confusion, intrigue, excitement, uncertainty, jealousy...
I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that last one. I knew he had a bit of a crush on me, and while he was handsome and it was fun to joke around and tease him, I really hadn’t thought about him romantically like that.
"So..." Criss began, eyeing us with a carefully neutral expression, "is Calvin okay with… this?"
Dan smirked. "No, this is our little secret."
I pushed Dan's chest and fought off a grin. "Of course Cal's okay with it. He might technically be my husband, but he's not the main man in my life. I'm equally committed to each of the brothers."
Criss tucked both lips in, and his gaze narrowed slightly. "So, you're... dating all four of them?"
I glanced at Dan, unsure of whether or not I should correct him. After all, I was actually dating all five of them. Ultimately, I decided to tell him about Ash. He was in the bond with us; he needed to know these things.
"All five of them," I said, allowing that to sink in.
Criss had grown up knowing he was the bastard son of the king. He'd met the princes before. I was certain he'd known about Asher and his untimely death.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Chrissen said, unlatching the gate and leading his horse out of the stall. "There are only four Storms, since Prince Asher died all those years ago. Unless... you're talking about me?"
Oh shit. I never imagined his mind would go there.
"Not a chance in Hades," Dan growled, just as I said, "I think you'd know if we were dating."
I took a deep breath and tried again, making sure to whisper in case any of the stable hands were actually spies of the Storm King. Both of the guys inadvertently leaned closer, and the three of us formed a small circle of sorts, our heads almost touching.
"Asher is not dead," I informed him. "He's a part of the blood bond too."
Chrissen's eyes went wide just as a voice startled us.
"What's up with the huddle?" Cal asked as he silently wedged into an opening between Dan and me. Rob and Ben were right on his heels, and our circle quickly disbanded.
"Tell you at lunch," Dan replied, glancing around the barn.
I turned to look too and caught a servant, who'd been standing eerily still, quickly jolt back into action, shoveling a giant heap of hay into a cart.
We were being watched.
Chapter 7
ASHER
Music pumped hard from every corner of the room.
Shadows surged and lights flashed, and between the bursts of illumination and darkness, I saw people drinking and dancing and kissing and grinding. If this was a party, it was better than any stuffy event I'd ever attended back in Blackwood.
I'd long ago lost track of Ares and Dion, but considering I only had a small hole in my shell to peer out of, it wasn't all that surprising. A number of people had wandered over to stare at my egg in wonder, gaping and poking and laughing in disbelief. Apparently, wherever the fuck we were, chimeras were a rarity there too.
This had gone on for hours, partying for a while, then prodding me in their free time. By the time the atmosphere had emptied out and mellowed down a bit, fewer and fewer people wandered over my way.
That's when I realized I'd damn near missed an excellent opportunity to bust the fuck out of here. I shook the sleepies out of my baby chimera eyes and told myself to stay focused. The next unsuspecting victim to poke my shell was going to be the asshole to break me out.
A half hour or so later, after my eyes were growing heavy once more, one of the guests reached a finger out and poked me.
"Holy shit," the guy sniggered. "You think it's actually alive in there?"
He was kind of ugly with a big nose and shaggy, curly hair. His pale skin was flushed a bright pink—probably from dancing. I couldn’t imagine it'd b
e from anything as exciting as sex.
His female companion grinned and took her own turn poking me. "Ares said it's real."
She, on the other hand, was beautiful. Why'd the ugly guys always seem to get the hot girls?
Wait. Alexis was the hottest woman I'd ever laid eyes on. Did that mean I was actually ugly? Fuck...
"You believe him?" the guy asked her mockingly.
"Of course, I do. He's the fucking God of War. Why would he lie?"
The guy shrugged. "To spark tension and animosity amongst the guests?"
The girl rolled her eyes and turned away. "Whatever, dude."
And there it was: the tension and animosity. But he was still a cocky idiot who was dead fucking wrong about the status of my authenticity. I was most definitely real, although I had no doubt Ares was totally getting off on the bickering and arguing my presence had caused.
The guy reached out and tapped my shell again, as if testing its legitimacy one last time before giving up the argument.
I figured that was as good a time as any to make my move.
As soon as his finger pushed me even slightly off balance, I ran into the inside of my shell and put my full, pathetic baby chimera weight into the shove. It tipped, further and further, the guy's eyes growing wider and wider as he realized the severity of what he'd done, and soon, I crashed to the floor. The egg split in two and my yolk oozed out onto the floor.
As quickly as I could, I called on my shifting magic and swirled myself into a cockroach, a swift little bug that could scurry away in lightning speed.
In a panic, the dude grabbed both halves of my shell and mashed it back together, setting it inconspicuously back on its stand. Sweat beaded along his brow, and his skin had paled. He glanced around nervously from side to side, making sure no one had seen what he'd done; then he took the girl's hand and tugged her away.
"You're right, babe. I think it was real."
"See?" she boasted with a smug grin, content to let him lead her away now that she'd won the argument. Apparently, she hadn't seen what he'd done. I, for one, wasn't going to stick around to see if anyone else saw.
I scurried under one of the leather sofas as fast as my many legs could carry me, which, gods almighty, was FAST. I was finally a creature that deserved Alexis's cute little nickname of "Speedy."
Gods, I missed her already. Had she and my brothers realized what I'd done? Were they pissed? Worried? Honestly, I hoped they were still passed out and that I could somehow find a way back before they even had a chance to be troubled.
I peered out from underneath the sofa and tried to find my bearings. Shit looked a lot different from so far beneath it all. Human legs were now taller than trees. The ground rumbled incessantly, like an earthquake—from footfalls, but also from the bass of the music.
When a path opened up between the sofa and the stairs, I made a run for it. I darted like the motherfucking wind, weaving between shoes until reaching the wall and scurrying sideways along the stairs. When I hit the top, I paused, hiding around the corner. The music was softer up here, and aside from a small line for the bathroom, it was pretty much empty.
I scampered along the wall and slipped into a bedroom.
I had to be strategic about my next move. I needed someone to kill me in order for me to return to human form and snoop around. There were so many people, I doubted anyone would pay me any mind. But I also needed to make sure that whoever killed me didn't stick around to watch me shift. It'd have to be a subconscious killing, sort of. At least, on their part. I could slip under a shoe easily, but then I'd die then and there, so it couldn't happen right in the middle of the hallway. It'd have to be somewhere sort of private and yet also in the way.
I crawled back out into the hallway and reassessed the bathroom line. I could sneak in there, hide behind the toilet until the person was finished, then just as they were about to leave, dart under their shoe. They'd be all grossed out for a second, but then carry on with their lives as if nothing ever happened. That'd give me a hot second to turn back into a man and lock the door shut while I figured out a plan. After all, I was going to be naked at the end of all this. If I'd been smarter, I'd have picked a slightly larger animal, like a squirrel or some shit, so that I could drag a pair of shorts or something in with me. But the likelihood of someone unknowingly squishing a fucking squirrel was much lower than a roach, so nakedness or not, I'd probably picked the right creature.
I waited until a man went in—I'm not a fucking sicko—and I followed my plan to a T. I waited in the shadows behind the toilet until it was time to move.
When he was finished peeing, he turned to the sink and washed his hands. He shut the faucet off, grabbed a paper towel, dried his hands, and threw it in the trash. He turned and grabbed the knob, and... I blazed over there like the terrifying little bastard I was. I swear my little legs kicked up a foot of dust behind me as I ran. I looked up, watching as his foot got closer and closer to the floor. I had about half a second to squeeze myself between there, or it'd be too late. Buzzing faster than a fucking hurricane, I jumped, diving to the spot where I knew they'd connect with a loud, squishy splat.
"What the—?"
The guy lifted his shoe, curling his lips in disgust as my nasty cockroach guts strung between his shoe and my dying carcass on the floor.
"Fucking nasty," he whispered to himself before shaking his head and exiting the room.
Poof! I called on my magic and shifted faster than I ever had before. I grabbed the knob and slammed the door shut, locking it quickly before anyone else could slip in.
I took a few huge gulps of air and looked at myself in the mirror. My feathery brown hair was even more disheveled than usual, and my cheeks were flushed slightly from all the running and panicking I'd been doing lately. My amber eyes were wide as adrenaline pumped through my veins.
I needed to think of something fast, and with such limited options, I guess there really was only one way out. I grabbed the roll of paper towels and wrapped it around my lower body. It was like a tight but flimsy skirt at first, but in order to make sure my junk stayed put, I also wrapped it around each individual leg. If I took too long of a stride, that shit was going to rip right down the middle, so I'd have to be careful.
With one last deep inhale, I unlocked the door and strolled out. For the time being, the line to the bathroom was empty. The whole hallway was empty. If I could make it into a bedroom, then I could probably find a pair of pants at least so I stopped looking so fucking conspicuous.
I shuffled forward, careful not to tear the material, when a voice suddenly stopped me.
"Hey, man, what the fuck?"
I swallowed hard and glanced over my shoulder.
Shit.
It was Dion.
Chapter 8
ALEXIS
When we reached the picnic grounds in the middle of the forest, we tied our horses to a few nearby branches. I scanned the woods, catching glimpses of some of the old, crumbling statues of the gods, but nothing more.
Satisfied that we were alone, I turned away and strolled over to the stone picnic table.
Cal and Ben spread out a checkered cloth and started passing out food, while I wedged between them. Rob and Dan sat on the other side, arguing about tattoos, while Chrissen just stood there awkwardly.
I felt so damn bad for him. Where did he fit in? Even I didn't know, so how could he?
I pointed to an open seat beside Dan. Nodding, he silently lowered himself onto the stone bench. Rob rolled his gray eyes, while Dan merely ignored him.
When all the food had been passed out—mostly breads, pastries, and fruits—and our goblets had been filled with wine, I took a deep gulp and told them about what I'd heard.
"Your mothers told me something interesting during tea today."
Ben grinned as he stole a roll off Rob's plate. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"That you're not brothers."
Fucking gods, I needed to work on my tact.
"Excuse me?" Cal asked, glancing from me to his brothers.
"I mean, you're brothers, but not by blood."
"Lexi," Dan said, folding his hands under his chin, "what the hell are you trying to say?"
I sucked down another gulp of wine, praying it'd give me liquid confidence. Where was that fae café when I needed it?
"They told me the truth of your heritage," I began, as Rob graciously refilled my glass. "And—"
"Zacharias isn't our father?" Ben asked. I wasn’t sure it was even a question. We'd figured as much in previous conversations; it had just never been confirmed.
I shook my head. "Nope. You five are direct products of the gods. So, you all have different mothers and different... fathers—well, actually, some of you have two mothers. And if you still consider yourselves related on those terms, then you technically have a sister."
"What?" Rob shouted, springing from his seat with clenched fists.
My eyes widened, but all I could do was shrug.
Ben shook his head, as if trying to flip the puzzle pieces in his brain to a new angle. "Start from the beginning, please. What exactly did they say?"
I grabbed a roll from my plate and took a bite as I thought. "Your mothers didn't want the Storm King to kill them. They needed to stay alive in order to get revenge for what he did to them and their kingdoms. So they prayed to the gods for help."
Every single face went suddenly solemn and sad.
I chewed on my roll, but I couldn't even taste it. I swallowed and set the rest of it down on my plate. "The six original Olympians answered their call—Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia."
"And the sister?" Rob asked, clearly not getting off track.
"Francesca and Hestia made Tia, a girl who Fran's handmaiden quickly whisked away, never to be seen again. The Storm King would have killed her or used her like he's doing to me."
"I've always hated Francesca," Rob declared, crossing his arms and finally sitting back down. "This Tia girl doesn't count as a sister."
Storm Chaser (Storms of Blackwood Book 3) Page 5