by Amy Sumida
“We do,” I said dryly. “It's called the refrigerator.”
Viper grimaced at me. “You're no fun.”
“That's not what you said last night,” I shot back.
Viper groaned. “Even I know that retort is dated.”
“Vervain, you want one?” Austin interrupted us.
“No, thank you. I'm not a fan of beer.”
“Coke?” He lifted a can of 7-Up.
“That's not a coke,” I pointed out in confusion.
“Darlin', all of 'em are cokes here,” Austin drawled as he grabbed three cans of soda—excuse me, three cans of cokes—along with his beer, cradling them against his chest to bring them to the table. He handed two to me, one to Trevor for Vero, and one to Lesya.
“Thank you!” Lesya eagerly opened her soda.
“You're welcome, sweetheart.”
“Daddy,” Vero demanded with a grasping motion and a growl.
“Say thank you to Mr. Wright first,” Trevor growled back.
Vero sighed, looked at Austin, and said, “Thank you, Mr. Wright.”
“Call me Austin, kid.” Austin winked at him.
Vero grinned then looked at his father pointedly.
“And how do you ask for something?” Trevor prompted.
Vero growled again but added, “Please.”
Trevor popped the soda open and handed it to Vero who started guzzling. Trevor shook his head at our son then at me.
“My children are a bit more savage than most,” I said to Austin. “It's the animal in them.”
“Yeah.” Austin blinked at me then at Vero, who had momentarily stopped drinking to grin at Austin again, bearing his baby fangs in the process. “Sure.”
“Go ahead. We ate already.” I waved at the bag of barbecue.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Austin dug into his lunch while the rest of us sipped our drinks. Well, except for Vero who tanked his.
“I wanted to let you know that we solved the case of the missing goddess and drowned humans,” I said to Austin.
“Oh?” He murmured around a bite. “You found her?”
“We found her and much more. I won't go into it, but no one else will be drowning in Latvia—at least not via Rusalki—and you won't have to deal with anymore Latvians shooting up Lexington.”
“That's a relief.” Austin sat back and swiped at his face. “What in tarnation are Rusalki?”
“They're like mermaids except they like to seduce men and drown them,” Odin said.
“You mean like Sirens?”
“It's a common misconception that Sirens are water dwellers.” Odin shook his head. “They're actually women who are part bird. They used to hunt the seas and sing to sailors, which is how they got confused with mermaids.”
Austin stared at Odin. Processed. “Okay. Are Mermaids real?”
“Mermaids are a species that branched off from Homo sapiens,” I explained. “They're not what most people think. Rusalki are closer to the mermaid myths than mermaids are.”
Austin gaped at me.
“Yeah, we're going to have to take this slower, I think,” I murmured.
“Just think of it like this; if there are myths about it, it's probably based in fact,” Trevor said helpfully.
“That's terrifying,” Austin said blandly.
“You said you wanted to know,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, I do.” He shoved some food in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “But maybe you're right about the takin' it slow part.”
“No problem,” I said and gave my guys a back-off look.
“You never did say how you found my house,” Austin reminded me. “You got some kinda god power that can sense where people are?”
“If I did, I wouldn't have checked the station first,” I pointed out.
He made an irritated sound. “Should have thought of that. In my defense, I was a little distracted by gods and barbecue.”
“Fair enough.” I grinned. “And I didn't find you. One of my close friends is the God of the Internet. He found you. Well, he looked up your address.”
“Do wut?” Austin was back to gaping at me. “There's a God of the Internet?”
“Yeah, he's a baby god but he's got some mad skills.” I winked at him.
“Sounds as if you don't need me,” Austin noted.
Odin shot me a smirk.
“You never know,” I repeated what I'd told Odin. “But, you're right; we probably won't need your help as far as investigating goes. That being said, the phone works both ways. You ever need our help, or come across someone who does, give us a call.”
“Really?” Austin asked in surprise.
“I started out hunting Gods,” I went serious. “I did it mainly to defend myself but also to defend people who don't know about the Gods and what they can do.”
“Which is most of the human race,” Austin concluded.
“Exactly,” I confirmed. “And then I met a group of gods who defend humans too. We teamed up to stop the bad gods from hurting people. Lately, we've gotten involved in things that concern Gods more than humans, but that hasn't changed what our motivations.”
“Noble,” Austin murmured.
“Now, I'm not saying that you can call me for every little problem that comes across your desk,” I amended. “But if you get the sense that something's off, that perhaps there are more than humans involved, that my world is messing with yours, then call me. If it turns out to be god-related, I'll be happy to help.”
“I appreciate that.” Austin lifted his beer to me. “And don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I never have to make that call.”
“So do I, Cowboy-Cop.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
One of the great things about being a god, beyond the obvious perk of immortality, is tracing. To never have to go to an airport and sit on a cramped plane for hours is a plus that's worth all the headaches that come with godhood. And it made vacationing far more enjoyable.
Kirill, Lesya, and I said goodbye to Austin and the rest of our family in Texas then traced to the cabin in Latvia where we immediately set to doing normal vacation stuff. Kirill took us hiking around the lake then up to the observation tower that gave the best view of Alūksne. When dinner time rolled around, we decided to go a little further abroad and after driving back to the cabin, we shucked off our coats and traced to Hawaii. I figured that Kirill had shown Lesya where he came from so I should too. Not that I'd never taken her to Hawaii, both Lesya and Vero have been there many times but still, it fit in line with the theme of our vacation.
Now here comes another fun aspect of tracing. It was 10:30 at night in Latvia but 10:30 in the morning in Hawaii. We stepped out of my house in Kaneohe, on the island of Oahu, and into bright sunshine. Lesya giggled in delight.
“Looks like it's breakfast for dinner,” Kirill said.
“I know just the place.”
I drove us to Cinnamon's in Kailua, one of my favorite breakfast spots, and we ate gourmet pancakes under the white dome of a gazebo that stood inside the restaurant. After breakfast, we went down to the beach and swam with Lesya until she started to do the sleepy-kid sway. We rinsed off in the public showers then laid out on towels to dry off, Lesya sleeping between us. When we were warm and dry, we drove back to my house and traced to Latvia, right into the cabin. Even indoors, the cold was a shock after coming off a Hawaiian beach, and I had to flip up my internal thermostat and snuggle Lesya against me while Kirill built up the fire.
We put Lesya to bed upstairs then went downstairs and climbed beneath the covers ourselves. I nestled into Kirill's arms, pleasantly tired, muscles warm and relaxed, my stomach free of acidic panic, and my mind empty of all thoughts but my own. My men and I were back to keeping our thoughts separate. I think that's key to making such close connections work; you have to know when to back off.
“You felt my father speak to me, didn't you?” Kirill asked as we snuggled together.
“I did. I could ev
en sense what he said. It felt like remorse and love.”
“It vas,” Kirill whispered. “Did you feel my mother's response?”
“No.” I angled my head up to look at him. “I felt something just before we left but I wasn't sure who it was. It was her?”
“Da.” He grinned at me. “She likes you and she's proud of me. Happy for me.”
“Were you able to find them? Do you know what territory they're in?”
“Nyet.” Kirill sobered. “But I zink zey are separated. Her reply came later zan his.”
“Volos said that love must be extraordinary to survive the cleansing of death.”
“Like ours.”
“Yes, like ours,” I agreed.
“Zis has been best vacation I've ever had,” Kirill murmured into my hair.
I chuckled against his chest. “It certainly wasn't boring.”
“And it's not over yet.” He kissed my forehead. “Only begun.”
“I don't think there's much more of Alūksne for us to see.”
“Who says ve have to stay here? Ve can go anywhere ve like and come back here to sleep.”
“Or we could go anywhere we like and sleep in a fancy hotel there,” I suggested. “With room service. And heat we don't have to create ourselves.”
Kirill chuckled, shaking my head with his chest. “As you like, Tima.”
“I don't think I'm your tima anymore,” I whispered into his skin.
Kirill went still then sat up, taking me with him. He held me out so he could look into my eyes and say, “You vill always be my heart, Vervain. No magic can change zat. Nor can it change how you saved me and gave me life again. I am who I am because of you. I live and laugh and love because of you. You are more my tima zan any voman has ever been or could ever be.”
“I love all that you're saying, Lion, and it goes right back atcha. But you know what I mean. It's different now and there are going to be changes. We need to prepare for that.”
“Nyet.”
“Da,” I said firmly. “You are of the Pride but not merely a lion anymore, baby. You are your own source of magic now. I may be your heart, but I'm not your goddess. Not anymore.”
Kirill started to growl.
“And that's a good thing.” I kissed him tenderly to stop his growling. “This is something I've always wanted for you. For us.”
“It is?” He looked at me as if he wasn't sure if he should be offended or not.
“You think I enjoyed the control I had over you? I don't want that, Kirill. I treasured the bond it formed between us but not the...”
“Submission?” Kirill whispered.
“You've never been a submissive man, but yes, there was an element of domination between us,” I admitted. “Now, we can face each other as magical equals and that makes me very happy.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “You're right; I feel change inside me, but you're also wrong, Vervain. Becoming a god didn't make me any less your lion.”
“No, but it made you a lion equal in strength to your lioness. And there's one other thing that gives me comfort.”
“Vhat's zat?”
“If anyone manages to break the tie of the Intare to me or hurt my lion magic, you will survive it,” I said solemnly.
“Don't even say zose vords.” Kirill scowled.
“Come on, Kirill,” I chided. “We don't do that. We don't pretend that bad things can't happen. It's nearly happened before. It could happen in the future and it would wreck me to lose the Pride. But losing you would completely destroy me.”
“And Lesya?”
“I think you could save her before she suffered,” I mused. “You might even be able to save them.”
“I could make Lesya my heir; give her piece of my magic.” He ignored the rest of my statement.
“And what if we have another child?”
Kirill went so still that he mimicked a statue. Then he blinked and his breath came out in a shiver. “Another child?”
“Not anytime soon.” I held up a hand. “But anything is possible when you live forever. And if we do have another, you could give them a piece of your magic so Lesya wouldn't have it all. Besides, I don't think Winter and Death suit her.”
Kirill smiled softly and pulled me against his chest as he laid back down with me. “Nyet, zey don't. She is Life and varmth of Summer, not Death and Winter.”
“So are you, sweetheart,” I said softly. “And yet you carry those magics well.”
“I have never been Life and Summer, Vervain,” he said solemnly. “You gave me zose zings but inside, I have always been Death and Winter. I come from cold land and vas given to death at very early age. Zis is who I am.”
“Perhaps you're right.” I ran a hand over his chest pensively. “I've always had a bond with death and when you took the magic, it felt appropriate. But you have to remember, Kirill, the heart of Winter isn't Death; it's a slumbering seed waiting to bloom. Winter's heart, like yours, is pure Life.”
“Only because it's your heart, Tima,” Kirill's voice held pleasure and amusement but also love. So much damn love.
The Black Lion held me close to his heart and whether it was cold or not, slumbering or awake, divine or human mattered little to me. All that mattered was that it belonged to me.
Keep reading for a special look into the next book in the Godhunter Series:
Half Bad
Chapter One
“Lesya, I didn't make you a princess bed so you could leave it unmade every day.” I waved at the beautiful bed crowned by a golden teester. Lavender silk hung from the crown shape, matching the comforter that was bunched up at the foot of the bed.
“Can't you just Mary Poppins it?” Lesya whined.
“First of all; points for the movie reference,” I growled. “Second; no, I cannot Mary Poppins it. There are many things I can do but magically making a bed isn't one of them. And even if I could, I would not make yours.”
“Why not?” She blinked her big blue eyes at me.
“Because you need to learn responsibility.” I bent over her. “If you want nice things, you have to take care of them. That includes putting away all these toys after you play with them.” I did another wave at the scattered dolls and plastic furniture.
Lesya slouched and pouted.
“You're staying in this room until it's clean!” I stalked out of her bedroom and slammed the door behind me, locking it for bad measure (it's a new phrase I'm trying to make popular, just go with it).
I stomped down the tower stairs and took the door that led out onto the balcony instead of the one adjacent to it that led into the bedroom. I needed a breath of fresh air. I took that breath as I approached the railing then leaned against the stone and let the sight of Pride Lands calm me. Above my head, I heard a little lioness pounding around her room angrily.
“Vhat has Lesya done now?” Kirill asked with a smile tinging his Russian accent.
“It's what she hasn't done; clean her room.” I looked over at my husband—the rebellious lioness' father—as he came up beside me.
The sunlight caught in his eyes and flashed sapphire. I wasn't sure if it was just the light, though. Kirill had recently become a full god, as opposed to a demigod. He now held the magics of Death and Winter, thanks to a connection he'd had with a goddess who he'd once been sacrificed to. Marena, aka Marzana, had tried to kill Kirill to get to my Trinity Star, but he had killed her instead and taken her magic. Yeah, it was a case of the human turning things around on the god, and I was all for it. Especially since the human—or ex-human, rather—was Kirill.
“How's the magic?” I asked him.
“Calm.” Kirill leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Did you vorry zis much about Trevor ven he became god?”
“I gave Trevor his god magic,” I countered. “I knew what it could and couldn't do to him.”
“And still, it surprised us.”
Kirill was referring to the change that godhood had made in Trevor. A change we hadn't r
ealized was tied to godhood until Kirill had his own change. The god magic had made Kirill his own source and that had altered the Intare magic that was already inside him. Now, Kirill can take a half form; shifting parts of his body into lion parts or becoming a werelion, as opposed to the full lion that the rest of the Intare are limited to. Trevor, who already had a half form, had changed in a different way. All Froekn have wolves in them—animal aspects that only emerge when they're in full wolf form—but sometimes, when a froekn is threatened, the wolf will take over to protect the man. It's called an eclipse and it happened to Trevor. Except we didn't realize that Trevor's wolf had also been strengthened by the god magic I'd given him; that of Dark Dominion, control over night creatures. The magic had made Trevor's wolf into more than an aspect of himself. It had become a sort of split personality that Trevor could shift into at will.