by Nicole Hall
Fuck the Fates. While he was at it, fuck the gods and the human race too. He’d call Alex and tell him to hurry his happy ass home if he didn’t want his precious seal left protected only by a cat with possible loyalty issues.
Lindsey
Lindsey hadn’t been in the best mindset when she’d fallen asleep after the fight with Dax. Could it be called a fight? His parting words had certainly felt like a blow, but she hadn’t intended to hurt him.
The wind blew her hair out of her face, and she realized she stood in the ravine, clad in her sleep shorts and a tank top. Lindsey sighed. The dream again. This would be the fourth time she’d gone to sleep and woken up here. Except she wasn’t really awake.
The world around her felt real enough, but after multiple visits, she recognized the pattern. The god hadn’t been able to get back into her head after she’d evicted him the first time, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying. Each attempt—telepathic fingers clawing at her mind—became easier to rebuff with a simple push of power against that spot.
Her brow furrowed. This one differed from the last couple. For one, Lindsey didn’t feel any pressure pushing her to surrender. For two, a malevolence she hadn’t noticed from previous dreams was noticeably absent. Lindsey glanced up at the spot where she’d landed, then down at the mud near the creek, only a few steps from where she currently stood. The faint outline of a bare foot prodded her memory.
That was what she’d been trying to remember. A footprint and the shine of metal right before she’d fallen.
Leaves rasped together, creating a gentle shush, but another sound layered underneath it. A male voice, deeper than Dax’s. She tilted her head to listen. The tone relayed urgency, but the message seemed to echo from far away preventing her from making out any words.
Lack of sleep combined with the persistent vision of Dax falling into the mud unconscious had her on edge, and even in the best of moods, Lindsey wasn’t interested in playing games with the gods. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, like she’d done with Dax to settle her magic.
She imagined him lying next to her, his chest moving in sync with hers. Imagined the coolness of the room and the warmth of his skin. The sharp, sweet smell of pine began to fade, but while she hovered between sleeping and waking, one word came to her in a clear, deep timbre. Sword.
Lindsey sat up with a gasp in bed. Sunlight streamed through the window, and at first, she didn’t recognize the room. Then the night and the dream and the fight with Dax came back to her. She’d grabbed her things from the other room and come to sleep in here. With a sigh, she flopped on the bed.
Dax wanted her to stay. Calliope wanted her to stay. Even Sabine and Alex wanted her to stay. Worse, Lindsey’s heart urged her to stay. But what would she offer them? Untested magic and a weakness for the god to manipulate?
She’d been willing to bide her time until now, but giving up the house meant she’d had to make a choice. Stay until Dax grew tired of her and broke her heart, or leave and try to salvage what pieces of her life remained.
Lindsey cringed and covered her face with her arm. Was she running because of fear? The question played on repeat in her mind, plaguing her with insecurity. Lindsey hadn’t been afraid in a long time, but she recognized the feeling now.
She feared Dax being hurt, but she also feared Dax hurting her. Her chest ached from the disappointment in his tone last night. Lindsey had promised herself the summer would be temporary, but falling in love with Dax had screwed that all up. Even now, part of her wanted to cave—tell him she’d stay and play house and pretend they had a bright future.
But Lindsey knew her own faults. She wasn’t good at families or relationships, and eventually, Dax would leave her for someone who was.
She’d promised to stay and deal with the god, but they didn’t need her. Sabine knew how to defeat a god; she’d done it before. With Alex, she’d have full access to her magic, and without Lindsey, the god would have no reason to target Dax. Or…Lindsey could go after the god herself. She had an artifact and a trail.
Lindsey shook her head. If she went by herself, she’d be removing the threat to Dax but also eschewing backup if she needed it. Confidence in her abilities didn’t translate to stupidity. She knew she was stronger with Dax than without, but would he go with her, even after yesterday?
In a fit of pique, Lindsey threw the blankets off and stomped through the bathroom. She flung open the door, then stopped short. Towels lay folded on the foot of the neatly made bed, and every surface looked like it had been wiped clean.
Dax was a borderline neat freak, but he normally had the usual junk that everyone collected on their side tables—coins, a flash drive, a sticker Kora had given him—and for some reason, he was incapable of putting his socks in the hamper. Today, nothing dirtied the floor and the nightstands were clear.
She checked the drawers, opened the closet, and looked under the bed. Nothing. All of Dax’s belongings were gone.
He’d left.
After all the shit he’d given her last night, he’d left. Lindsey slumped to the carpet, her back against the bedframe. Her jaw clenched so tightly her teeth ground together, but she would not cry again.
The little part of her that had hoped he’d stand—the part that had begun to believe she could be more than a burden to other people—shriveled into a husk. She’d pushed him away, and he’d kept going.
Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? To prove he was just like all the others?
Lindsey curled in on herself, drawing her knees up and resting her cheek on them. It was what she’d told herself would happen, but she hadn’t wanted his desertion. She’d wanted his love.
What a stupid time to make that realization. Lindsey gasped for air, fighting the tightness in her chest, but moping and cursing the Fates for their blindness wouldn’t help anything. She swallowed the hurt and anger to be dealt with later.
She’d promised to help with the god before she left, and that’s exactly what she’d do—fulfill her last promise then get the hell out of town.
Lindsey climbed off the floor, careful to avoid noticing the bed they’d shared. After last night’s dream, she didn’t need Andrew’s confirmation about the sword. The god had told her himself.
One good thing would come from Dax leaving, the god couldn’t use him against her. Because she was fairly certain she’d sacrifice every human on Earth to save him.
After getting dressed, she headed for the kitchen and the sword she’d left there. Lindsey took the time to braid her hair and write a note for Sabine and Alex just in case. If her plan succeeded, she’d ditch the note before anyone ever saw it, but if she failed, at least the two of them—and Calliope—would know what happened.
Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of food, so Lindsey took a deep breath, grabbed the sword, and hiked into the woods. When she got back, she’d pack her bags and load her SUV. No reason to hang around reliving painful memories. Or wishing for a future that had never been hers.
They’d walked to the ravine enough times by that point that a barely discernable trail had formed. Lindsey paid close attention to her surroundings, hoping she’d sense any magic before it reached her. The morning felt like any other, hotter than it had any right to be and stupidly humid.
Unlike the last few times, a breeze didn’t help cool her off. The forest creaked and crunched around her, probably due to wildlife, but the trees remained still. Lindsey transferred the sword into her other hand to wipe her sweaty palm on her shorts and wished she’d found a sheath to wear. If she couldn’t find the trail to the bottom of the ravine, climbing down was going to be a bitch with the sword in one hand.
To her great relief, she found the trail with a little effort. She’d trekked it before, but the steep, narrow path wasn’t made for humans. Somehow, she didn’t think fire magic would be much help against another fall. One day, she’d have to ask Calliope about other magic skills. Lindsey slowed. If she saw Calliope again.
/> The trail ended a ways from where she’d been before, but at least hiking along the bottom of the creek bed proved cooler than among the trees. Objectively, the place was pretty, but Lindsey hoped she never had to see this ravine again.
She stopped underneath the area where she’d fallen and touched anything she could reach. The traces of magic weren’t as prevalent here, but the few she found led her farther along the creek. Luckily, the water had subsided into a trickle, leaving a crust of dried mud over a layer of slime underneath. The surface became slick if she wasn’t careful, but it beat getting her sneakers soaked.
Lindsey almost walked right past the large boulder that looked like it had tumbled down a long time ago. From the front, it appeared to be imbedded in the cliff side, but when she placed her hand on the rough stone to steady herself, a strong pulse of magic made her jerk back. Her feet nearly slid out from under her, but she caught herself at the last moment, spinning in a half circle around the rock.
A shadow marked a break in the mossy stone, and as Lindsey crouched down, an opening revealed itself between the boulder and the rest of the wall. She activated the flashlight app on her phone, and her brows flew up at what it revealed.
A cave that looked like someone had been living there. The mouth was about four feet across and sat several feet above the bottom of the ravine, probably protecting the inside from water when the creek rose. Lindsey didn’t see anyone around or any other openings inside, but she didn’t want to be caught in that tight space with only a sword and magic fire to defend herself.
The light showed a small fire ring near the entrance, cold now. Beyond it, a sleeping bag, blanket, and pillow sat next to a LED lantern. A ratty backpack rested against the wall, and weirdest of all, a stack of books leaned drunkenly to one side. Lindsey performed a quick check of the rest of the cave, then returned to the stack of books.
Who would go to the trouble of bringing books all the way down here? She’d barely made it with only a sword. Lindsey reached inside to touch the closest stone from the fire ring, and a familiar prickle of magic greeted her. Whoever stayed here was connected to the god somehow.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up a second before she heard a soft squelch behind her. Lindsey spun, her sword at the ready, but stopped short when she saw the thief from the bookstore holding a taser pointed directly at her.
She shook as she held the gun with both hands. Lindsey lifted her arms in a gesture of surrender and tried to look as unthreatening as she could while holding a sword. The girl’s eyes darted to the sword in one hand and Lindsey’s phone in the other, and Lindsey realized too late she’d missed her moment.
The girl—Sophie—apologized as she pulled the trigger. Lindsey felt the solid slap of the prongs hitting her stomach, pushing electricity right through the thin cotton of her tank top. She whimpered at the excruciating pain of her muscles trying to pull away from her body.
Lindsey crumpled to the ground, unable to catch herself. The back of her head struck stone, causing a secondary explosion of pain from the top down. Darkness closed over her, and she heard footsteps coming closer, slapping against the mud. From far away, Sophie said something, but Lindsey couldn’t hold on to it. Dax would be so disappointed. She’d been taken out twice in this stupid ravine.
15
Dax
The line at Reggie’s moved at a snail’s pace. Dax hadn’t planned on the delay, and with every special order, he worried he’d get home to find Lindsey already gone. She’d be significantly harder to convince if he had to follow her to Dallas without talking to her first.
Last night, he’d thought loading up his truck with all his belongings would make things easier, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d never been to Reggie’s in the early morning, though apparently the rest of the town were regulars.
Bribing Lindsey with a latte and a cinnamon roll had seemed like a fabulous idea when he’d been groggy from tossing and turning all night—without her next to him, he couldn’t get comfortable. At this rate, she’d be long gone before he reached the counter.
The woman in front of him glanced back nervously, and Dax realized he’d been standing with his arms crossed, scowling. He sent her a smile and shifted to stare out the window, but she scooted forward a little more anyway.
Outside, he spotted Kora’s blonde hair, newly colored with bright blue streaks. He almost didn’t recognize her at first because of the surly look on her face. She stood close to Moira, gesturing animatedly with her whole body. A wink of sunlight reflected off of a golden mirror in her right hand.
Dax grimaced, abandoning his effort to appear non-threatening to the woman in front of him. Moira spoke calmly, and he wished he could hear what they were saying. Lindsey had lost interest in the other artifacts once she discovered the xiphos was an original, but he hadn’t forgotten that the magic fingerprints, as she called them, had led to the helm and mirror in Kora’s office.
Kora shook the mirror in Moira’s face, but the older woman smiled and patted Kora’s wrist. No one else seemed to notice them on the sidewalk. Under normal circumstances, he’d have probably ignored the scene too, but he wanted to leave Alex with as much data as possible since he and Lindsey wouldn’t be there to help. Sabine seemed to think Kora was harmless, but they’d never gotten around to asking Calliope about Kora’s potential as a demigod.
Dax considered leaving the line to ask some questions himself, but he didn’t think making a scene in front of Moira would get him the information he wanted. Kora huffed, visibly huffed, and curled in on herself a bit. Her body language said she’d lost the argument, but her mouth hadn’t given up yet.
Moira shook her head sadly and made a slashing motion with her hand, apparently ending the conversation. Kora glared and stomped into Reggie’s, while Moira walked away in the direction of her shop.
The man behind him cleared his throat, and Dax moved forward with the line. Reggie called a welcome to Kora as she entered, but she ignored him and made a beeline for Dax. He forced a smile as she approached.
“Good morning, Kora.”
She rolled her eyes and planted herself next to him, the mirror still clutched in her hand. “It’s not good yet. Ana’s going to kill me for being late. Buy me a coffee? I’ve earned it.”
He tilted his head. “Have you ever paid for coffee here?”
Kora shrugged. “Probably, but I don’t remember it. Look, it’s good I saw you in here. I was just about to head over to your place.”
Dax wondered how long she’d known he was here. He hadn’t been subtle about watching them, and she hadn’t looked his way until she’d come into the coffee shop. “Did you need something?”
She held up the mirror. “I need to return this to Lindsey. She left it in my shop the last time she was there.”
Technically, Kora was right. They’d left the mirror there when they’d sort of broken in, but he knew for a fact it wasn’t Lindsey’s. What was she up to?
He raised a brow. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing that with her things.”
“And you’ve memorized all her things? Controlling much?” Her sarcasm felt forced, and she sent a quick angry glance out the front window.
Dax took another step forward, leaving only the nervous woman between him and Lindsey’s bribe. “Sorry, it’s not hers.” He wasn’t taking any chances, especially not after the lies she’d just told him.
She sighed. “It was a gift, and she needs to have it. Like today. Can you please just return it to her?”
He examined the mirror, making no effort to take it. If the artifact was booby-trapped, he’d have no way to tell, but if he refused, she’d simply go around him and deliver it to Lindsey anyway. After their last fight, Dax wasn’t sure Lindsey would listen to him if he warned her. And why the insistence on today?
Before he could ask his questions, an intense, broad pain shot through his stomach and out to his extremities. Dax grunted and tried to stay upright. The clink of glassware and the quiet hum of
voices disappeared as he nearly doubled over in pain.
Kora laid her hand on his back, and the pain diminished enough that he could breathe again. She’d almost certainly used magic, but he couldn’t fault her in this instance. The pain hadn’t come from him. Lindsey was in trouble. Again.
He straightened and met Kora’s eyes. She raised a knowing brow and held out the mirror again. “She needs it today.”
“Promise me this won’t hurt her.”
Kora rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. I’m not the enemy here. Take the mirror and run to her rescue.”
Dax searched her face, but he didn’t see any malicious intent. “You and I are going to have a long conversation later.”
She nodded. “That seems fair.”
He snatched the artifact from her, half expecting to be zapped or turned into a toad, but nothing happened. It was simply a fairly heavy golden hand mirror with magic fingerprints and the ability to save the woman he loved.
She’d already turned her back on him to say hi to Reggie, stealing his place in line, but Dax didn’t care. He hustled out of the coffee shop and into his truck, tossing the mirror onto the seat next to him. His instincts said she was in the woods behind the house, probably the ravine again, and he didn’t want to waste any more time.
The anxiety and fear churning in his stomach urged him to speed through town, but he stayed under the limit and came to a full stop at the stop sign. A good thing too since the sheriff was parked not a block down the street. The man raised a hand in greeting when Dax made eye contact, and for a split second, he considered asking the authorities for help.
Dax had weapons, but what did one use against a god. This could be a case of quantity over quality. Besides, if Lindsey was hurt—as the gripping pain had indicated—he could use another strong back with first aid skills. Then the moment passed, and he gunned it through the intersection. Sheriff Shane Garrett seemed like a decent guy the few times they’d met, but he’d be unprepared for magical warfare.