by K. F. Breene
“Oh.” Mordecai stepped a little farther into the kitchen, his head bowed in fatigue, and his eyes drooping. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“You’ve had a hard day, too. Go rest. We’ll all catch up at dinner.”
“Are you sure—”
“Ask her if she needs a chaperone, Pippin,” Daisy hollered down the hall.
Daisy had watched Lord of the Rings one time, equated the sounds of Mordor with Mord-ecai, and had been peppering in references ever since. I now hated the movie purely from social annoyance.
Mordecai just stared at me. He knew I’d heard her. As they all kept reminding me, the house was small.
“Yes” was on my lips. The word was formed. I had so little control around Kieran that clearly I needed someone to run interference, but I didn’t want to admit it. Not to the kids, not to Kieran, and especially not to myself.
“I’m good,” I said, picking up a potato and staring at it. My hands shook.
“Cool. I’m going to take a cat nap on the couch. Jack made me do sprints and…” He shook his head.
“Lots of water.” Kieran only turned his upper body. He left his groin facing the cabinets. “I’ll have one of the guys bring you something for sore muscles, but you need constant water. It’ll help.”
Mordecai nodded and hooked a thumb behind him. “I have my water bottle out here. I’ll drain it. Thanks again. For everything. You don’t have to let your guys train me, but I wouldn’t work nearly as hard without them.” He shook his head. “Not nearly.”
“They’ve had a lot of training themselves. They know what the human body can withstand.”
“I’m not human,” Mordecai said with a strange tone. It was like a cocktail of pride, fear, and uncertainty.
“Which is why they are pushing you harder.”
Mordecai nodded and drifted away.
“He needs to make his first change soon.” Kieran sounded like he was talking to himself. “He’s old for never having done it. It’ll affect his psyche.”
“How do you know?” I worked at sliding the peeler across a potato, being careful not to jerk my shaky hand to the side and take off some of my skin.
It took me a second to realize he hadn’t answered me. I glanced up and my breath caught.
Kieran was facing me, his pants tented by his massive erection. His black hair stood up at odd angles, like he’d just run his fingers through it in frustration.
“Sorry about…” He didn’t gesture, but I knew he was talking about putting distance between us right before I got where I was going. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d want your wards walking in on that.” He paused, and a smile ghosted his lips. “I also didn’t want to get kicked out by a couple of teenagers.”
I forced out a breath, sagging against the table. He had a point. I would’ve been mortified if the kids had seen me like that, for so many reasons. His presence of mind was impressive. I’d barely registered Mordecai coming out of his room.
“They’ll each need their own bedrooms, though,” he went on, before reaching down and adjusting himself.
My gaze snagged on the motion, and fantasies of replacing his touch with mine brought my blood back to boiling. I wiped my forehead of moisture.
“He’s a healthy teenage boy now. He’ll need some privacy,” Kieran said, leaning back.
“They’re well used to changing in the bathroom,” I said, returning to the potatoes. “They think of each other as siblings—there’s no cause for alarm.”
“You’re not hearing what I’m saying.” He stepped closer to the table. “I’m not sure how it is for girls, but for boys, he’s at the age where his dick will be his favorite pastime. He’ll be dreaming about girls while—”
“Ew, okay.” I held up my hands to stop the words. “Got it. I know what you mean now. All clear.”
“He needs his own room.”
“I’ve already had the talk with him. He knows to deal with that stuff in the bathroom. Or shower. Or he can clean out the back shed and have his own personal wank shack. Whatever. He knows I won’t pass judgment as long as he keeps it away from their shared room.”
He shook his head before turning back to the counter. “That’s an incredibly awkward conversation. How’d he take it?”
“It’s only awkward if you’re being awkward about it. It’s a natural human situation. It’s not a big deal.”
“It will be when he doesn’t think anyone is home, wants the comfort of his bed, and Daisy walks in on him. That won’t be a good scene. Or if he thinks she’s asleep and—”
“Okay, okay. Jesus, how often did you play whack-a-mole with yourself?”
“All the time. That’s what I’m saying.”
I pushed off of the chair and looked out into the connected family room, something I should’ve done before proceeding with this conversation. Thankfully, Mordecai was lightly snoring on the couch and Daisy was probably doing the same in my room.
“Well…I can move Daisy into my room permanently, I guess. But then I’ll have to use the bathroom…”
Kieran stilled, his whole body going stiff. “What do you use? Your fingers, or a vibrator?”
I slid my forearm across my forehead, my body pounding again.
“None of your business,” I forced out, my throat tight.
“Can I watch?” He glanced back, his tone teasing but his eyes on fire. “You can use both methods, and then compare them with my cock. See which one gets you off the best.”
“Vibrator, easy.” I cleared my throat. “It’s got all the bells and whistles. Men just aren’t equipped to compete.”
“I’m not a man.” His voice was deep and rich. “I’m a god.”
10
Kieran
An hour into a pleasant, though very frustrating, evening, Kieran plated the last of the steaks before turning and handing the plate off to a waiting Daisy. She took it without a word, then sauntered over to the table and placed it in front of Alexis’s spot.
Alexis opened the second bottle of wine and set it down in the middle of the table. She glanced his way, quickly saw that he didn’t need anything, and slid into her seat.
Kieran paused at the counter for a moment, basking in the easy family dynamic of these three completely different people. The kids were moody, and they gave plenty of attitude, but under it all was a deep love and respect for their provider. They’d be happy with absolutely nothing, so long as they were all together. They were content in a way Kieran had never experienced. No drama, no turmoil. Just family.
A pang of envy hit him. He’d give up everything for this easy, loving lifestyle. His mother probably would’ve, too. Maybe she’d even tried to establish this sort of life for them, but Valens had always called the shots, end of story.
Rage flashed through Kieran, hot and unexpected. Memories surfaced. Of his mother trying to hide her worry that his father would show up and force him into some painful exercise or another, or take him away entirely. Of her fierce and painful longing for the ocean, so close they could hear it crashing against the cliffs not far from their castle.
Next, images of the hospital accosted him. There, he’d watched helplessly as her frail body withered away day by day. He’d written dozens of pleading emails to his dad to give her back her skin and let her go. Kieran didn’t need her as badly as she needed the ocean. He would’ve given anything to free her.
Instead, he’d been forced to watch her die slowly. Unable to help.
“Hey…”
A soft touch pressed against his bicep. It felt…comforting.
Alexis stood close, her feminine scent mixing with the thrilling feel of her magic. The kids studied him, concern in their expressions.
“You okay?” Alexis asked softly. She put out her other hand, as though trying to hold someone back. “No, no. Remember what I said? You have to learn when to let him come out of it. Touching him now will only keep him under.”
Sorrow welled up inside him
, the sharp bite of loss taking his breath away.
His mother was here. She wouldn’t like to see him hurting. She never had.
“I’m fine.” He tried to straighten up, but the heaviness of his plans pressed on his shoulders.
How the hell could he take someone like Valens down? He couldn’t even get the non-magical mayor on his side. The meeting had been a bust. The man clearly hated how Valens ran things, but he’d hinted at some mutually beneficial dealings with the reigning Demigod. He wouldn’t stand in Kieran’s way, or so he said, but neither would he help him.
“Your mother says to sit down and eat. Your food is getting cold.” Alexis’s tone sounded just like his mother’s.
He slipped an arm around her and hugged her close, sinking into the soft support of her compassion.
“Sorry,” he muttered, knowing his mother would hear.
“No, we’re not,” Alexis said, slipping out of his grasp. “He’s just grabby.” She paused, staring at empty space. “That’s all well and good, but I’m not the right one for him. I live in this place, and he lives…somewhere nicer. He needs a girl more his speed.”
Kieran stilled, suddenly desperate to know what his mother had said.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Daisy asked as Kieran took a seat at the table. Daisy sat next to him, and Mordecai on the other side. The teens had separated the adults.
“What?” he asked as Alexis braced her hands on her hips, still staring at that spot where his mother clearly stood, there…but not there. In the same room, but a world away.
“When she talks to emptiness.” Daisy shivered. “You know someone dead is in the room. It’s gross.” Her gaze darted to Kieran. “No offense,” she muttered. “Sorry for your loss.”
“It’s not like it’s a corpse. And it’s not empty space to her,” Mordecai said.
“Yes, Sharon the White, but—”
Mordecai bent over in laughter.
“What?” Daisy asked indignantly.
“Saruman. Not Sharon.” Mordecai cut a large piece of steak before popping it into his mouth. He spoke around it. “It’s Saruman the White. The wizard.”
She waved the comment away as Alexis said, “Do you have any idea where your skin might be? Any idea at all?”
“She’s still a dead person.” Daisy cut off a bite of her steak and speared it with her fork. “Which is weird.” She popped the bite into her mouth, then moaned and rolled her eyes. “This is good. Kieran, you’re a better cook than Jack, and he’s great.”
“I agree,” Mordecai said, working at cutting off another piece. “I figured it would be bland and overdone because of where he’s from. I’ve always heard meat is overcooked in Ireland and England.”
Daisy nodded while digging in. “They err on the side of burnt.”
Kieran laughed unexpectedly, the pain of his mother’s loss momentarily eased by the banter of these two. “You’re stereotyping me.”
“Yeah.” Daisy lifted her eyebrows at him, as if to say obviously.
“Well, don’t tell Jack. You’d crush him,” Kieran said, watching Alexis continue to stare at that spot where his mother apparently stood.
Her teeth snagged her plump bottom lip, thinking. She turned toward the edge of the counter near the fridge. “Wait, let me get a pen and paper… No, don’t worry about dinner. I’m fine eating it cold. This is more important, trust me.”
“Something is up with her magic, isn’t it?” Daisy asked Kieran, her intelligent blue eyes piercing his focus. “It’s changing.”
He paused, not sure what Alexis had told them.
“That means yes,” Mordecai said softly, nearly done with his steak. The rest of his plate lay untouched.
“You’re damn right that means yes.” Daisy rested an elbow on the table and conversationally pointed the business end of her steak knife at Kieran. “She doesn’t like the change, right?”
He held his tongue.
Daisy nodded like he’d answered. Mordecai leaned back with a sigh. They looked at each other for a moment, something passing between them.
“No, I did not know that,” Alexis said into the silence. “Is there a code or something?”
“What is it?” Mordecai asked, dividing Kieran’s attention between the kids and Alexis’s one-way conversation. “What’s the magic?”
After another non-answer, Daisy pointed with the knife again, only this time, there was a threat behind it. “We can’t help her unless we know what’s going on. Spill it, Demigod.”
“She’s a Spirit Walker,” he said distractedly as Alexis scribbled something down. “Alexis, what is she telling you?”
“Your father has a trophy room,” she said.
He shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “It’s not there. I’ve been through it.”
“You forget”—she straightened up and tore a sheet of paper from the notepad—“the skin is a spirit now. You wouldn’t be able to see it.”
“Still, that trophy room isn’t for those kinds of trophies.” He held out his hand for the paper.
“He does think he has all the answers, doesn’t he?” Alexis said, clearly speaking to his mother.
Something within him eased, just a little. The sorrow that suffocated him most nights pulled back. His mother was trapped in the world of the living, and while she’d clearly rather move on, from what he’d heard through Alexis, she didn’t sound like she was suffering. Constant sickness no longer weighed on her every thought. A pile of meds no longer stole her attention. She’d been transported back to the days when she still cared about hot meals and whether Kieran’s attitude needed adjusting.
Her salvation was close. Alexis would free her, he was sure of it.
“Give me the paper,” he said in a thick voice filled with gratitude and hope.
Daisy paused, her mouth open, before lowering her knife and looking down at her plate. Mordecai, too, the good cop of their duo, found somewhere else to focus.
They’d recognized his lack of composure, and were giving him a moment.
Alexis had raised good kids. Kind kids, despite their attitude flare-ups. He understood now why his Six nearly fought over cooking dinner for them. Like him, they craved a sense of community, a taste of a family dynamic.
“Yikes, these might be tough,” Alexis said, finding her seat.
He held out his hand again. “Let me see the list.”
Alexis put it in his palm as she sat down. “Your fatigue and disorientation is because you’re not used to this place. Kieran drew you here. You didn’t elect to come. Wait—” She held up her hand and her brow creased.
Daisy leaned across the table, looking at Mordecai. “She’s still talking to a ghost, isn’t she?”
Mordecai nodded.
Daisy’s lips thinned and she leaned back without a word, returning to her dinner.
Kieran scanned the list, recognizing a few rooms in his father’s house and a warehouse he’d visited. The other places weren’t familiar, and a few of the warehouses didn’t have exact locations listed. His mother clearly knew of their importance, but not why they were important.
He dropped the notepaper to the table, wondering if those places were still operational—and, if so, what they were being used for. Uncertainty pinched his gut. Every time Kieran thought he’d turned up all his father’s secrets and lies, something new popped up onto the radar. His confidence in taking on his father was dwindling. His preparations looked more and more like the hopeless dream of an upstart, exactly what the non-magical mayor had called them.
He blew out a breath. He might be able to free his mother, but taking down his father was starting to look like a suicide mission, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d pull Alexis in with him.
11
Alexis
A hard rap permeated the house.
I peeled an eye open, noticing the soft light lining the shades in the window. It was early morning, before the sun had completely risen.
An
other seris of knocks, knuckles flush to the door.
“What is it?” Daisy asked, stirring on the floor.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Five-oh-two in the morning, much too early to be awake let alone knocking on someone’s door.
The faint tinkle of metal on metal chased the sleep away. A key plunged into the lock.
I froze, listening. Mentally rolled through the list of everyone who had a key.
“Mordecai slept in his room, right?” I whispered.
Daisy bolted up to sitting, her eyes wide and staring at me in the dim light. My unease had triggered her warning mode.
“Yes. Remember? I berated him for forcing me to leave?” she said. “He wasn’t put out about it, so then I throttled him. He was already under the covers. He wouldn’t have left after that. He hates moving when he’s comfortable.”
I nodded, the foggy memories from last night coming back to me. I’d had the equivalent of a bottle of wine, and Kieran’s proximity had made me doubly drunk. Anything not related to desire and a near eight pack of muscles hadn’t sunk in too deeply.
The lock tumbler clicked over.
“Then who the fuck just opened our door?” I rolled out of bed and ducked for the bat, resting against the wall in the corner.
It wouldn’t be Kieran, not when he knew Daisy was sleeping on my floor. He’d lingered at the front door last night, his gaze resting on my lips, his body close. The kids had already gone to bed, disapproval in their sleepy eyes as they drifted down the hall. They’d clearly thought I’d buckle and give in to him.
I totally would’ve. I wouldn’t have been able to help it. Not after seeing the haunting sorrow that crossed his beautiful features whenever he spoke of his mother. Not after eating the fabulous dinner he’d labored over after a hard day. Not after an evening spent talking to him about everything and nothing as if we’d known each other all our lives. If he’d leaned in and settled those full lips on mine, I wouldn’t have had a prayer.