“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize before tonight that you . . .” Zephyr paused, as if unsure if he should continue. “. . . that you love her.”
Am I that obvious?
A heavy weight settled on Cal’s chest. He swallowed hard, pushing the lump out of his throat. “You can never speak of this to Nix. Not ever.” Cal hoped Zephyr would heed the warning. “The information could jeopardize her mental health.”
“I understand, Cal. She will not hear of this from me.” Zephyr turned to go, then stopped and faced Cal. “What are your intentions toward her? Especially if you don’t get your soul back.”
That was easy. “I’ll fight to the end to stay with her. But if I lose, then I’ll find a way to the Elysian Fields. I won’t give her up again.”
Zephyr nodded. “I will help you both, however I can. Go with the Gods, Calder Quinne.”
Cal watched Zephyr walk away, aware that he had passed an important test. He had earned Zephyr’s respect. And he found that gratifying. Maybe the water had washed away some of his anger toward Zephyr. Or maybe it was the other male’s acknowledgement of his love for Nix. No matter the reason, he had gained a new ally and maybe even a friend.
Nix crept down the back stairs. The shop had been open for an hour and business was light. Basil was singing a horrid rendition of a pop song on the radio. In the background, Cal and Jason were egging the foolish bird along. She cracked open the back door, slipped outside, and walked down the garage side of her alley. If there was a body at the dumpster, she didn’t want to know. She headed for the coffee shop located behind the Whaler’s Inn on the next block. Chloe and Tabby had texted her, begging Nix to come meet them as soon as she could get away.
Mystic Ink was in a lull, between the morning rush and lunch crowd, so she could leave with no one the wiser. Cal thought she was upstairs doing paperwork.
“Nix. Over here.” Chloe waved her over to a small café table outside the shop. A box of pastries and a coffee were already waiting.
“Bless you, Sister. Hand over that box.” Nix polished off an apple Danish and half her coffee before giving in to Tabby’s pleading.
“Come on Nix, is it true?” Tabby whined again. “Is Cal really missing his soul?”
“Yes. How did you hear about it?” If Jason had blabbed, Nix was going to pierce his mouth shut.
“You know, through the grapevine.” Tabby shrugged.
“Seriously, Nix, the one guy in centuries who is truly interested in you and within two weeks, his soul is in peril?” Chloe teased. Of all her sisters, Chloe had the gentlest spirit. Father had permanently retired her from service after Chloe refused to wear the Mantle. Nix suspected that Nereus was so surprised to be challenged by Chloe he relented. A decision Nix agreed with. Chloe wasn’t suited for a hard life of combat and intrigue. Nix admired her for standing up to their father.
“That’s not how it happened.” At least Nix hoped she was telling the truth.
“He is really into you.” Tabby chose a cruller out of the pastry box and dipped it into her coffee.
Nix shook her head, “No. He’s only interested in finding out if I’m crazy.”
“No. He wanted to know all about you. Your hobbies, where you liked to go on your free time,” Tabby insisted.
“All part of the job, I’m sure.” Nix didn’t have the heart to argue with Tabby. Cal probably collected the information so he could find her when she snuck off. “When did he have time to ask you all these probing questions?”
“The night at the beach house,” Chloe answered. “I think he genuinely cares for you, Nix. You should give him the benefit of the doubt. He said he wanted to see you again after the assignment ends.”
That gave Nix pause. She popped the bubble of hope before it absorbed her common sense. She couldn’t have a normal life. The Fates had a different plan for her. Not to mention, she was still hearing the voice. When she had woken that morning, it buzzed into her head. It politely suggested she stop ignoring it and accept the offer for help. Who had ever heard of a well-mannered figment of imagination? Cal could never learn the truth, so she would have to keep him at arm’s length. No way was she being locked up or reduced to a bucket of water or whatever the League did to punish crazy Destroyers.
“So what are you going to do?” Tabby nibbled on a glazed doughnut.
“Nothing. We have a much bigger problem than my lame love life.” Nix brought her sisters up to date on events. They gasped, asked questions, offered suggestions, but in the end they didn’t have any new ideas either.
“There’s got to be something you can do. What about Daddy?” Chloe had twisted her braid around her fingertip.
“He seems to be out on one of his extended fishing trips.” Nix hid her concern. She suspected Nereus was either lying low, so he wouldn’t have to turn her away when she asked for his help, or something else was detaining him. Probably something bad.
“Well, how inconvenient,” Tabby lamented.
Chloe stared at her sister like she sprouted a third eye. “Tabby—”
A foul odor caught Nix’s nose. She knew that smell—trouble. Nix stood up. “I’ve got to go.”
“Keep us posted!” Tabby shouted as Nix ran toward Mystic Ink.
Gods damn it. What did those bitches want? Nix skidded around the block and stopped dead at the sight in her shop’s front window. Scantily clad, well-endowed cheerleaders had Jason surrounded. The most buxom of the bunch was seated on Jason’s lap while they shared his tattoo chair. Freaking Harpies. They all seemed to have recovered from Cal’s inferno. Speaking of Cal, he was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Mary or Basil for that matter.
Nix didn’t wait to find out where everyone else was. She barged in through the front door. “What are you skanks doing in my shop?” Nix kept her hands behind her back, a ball of water balanced in her palms.
“Go away, Nereid. Your lovely hero had agreed to give us whatever we want.” Miss Chesty straddled Jason, her long legs hanging wide on each armrest. An impressive stretch, even if it was revolting at the same time. The cheerleader persona was a façade. If the glamour dropped, the sight wouldn’t be pretty. Nix had no desire to see gray, scaly chicken legs dappled with moldy feathers. Ick.
“Really? What do you want?” This time Nix would ask questions first, then blast them.
The Harpy wriggled around on Jason’s lap and shifted her hand down between his legs. “Tell her what we want, big boy.”
Jason’s eyes lolled in his head, a slow smile crept across his face. “Give them the seal,” he said, his voice faraway and dreamy. Not this again.
“Get off him, you heinous bitch.” Bullets of water exploded from her fingertips, targeting each of the Harpies’ eyes. Hard drops hit their marks. They screamed in shock and anger.
“Fool!” Miss Chesty leaped off of Jason’s lap, leaving him in a confused daze. She faced Nix, eyes white and dead like a corpse. “This is the second time you’ve interfered.”
“Excuse me? I’m not the issue here. Go back to whatever hellhole you crawled out from.” Nix eyed the other Harpies. They were regaining their sight. She needed a game plan. She was outnumbered four to one. More water, this time hardened into ice balls, blinded the downed cheerleaders again. They writhed on the floor, rubbing their eyes and cursing Nix. The Harpy leader, Miss Chesty, evaded the next blast and tackled Nix to the ground. Nix fell backwards in time to see the ice ball smack Jason’s head instead.
Nix rode the backward momentum and flung the Harpy overhead into the hard oak receptionist desk. The desk groaned, but held fast, securely bolted to the floor. The Harpy’s legs jackknifed and twisted, trying to stand. The force would have broken a mortal spine. It merely slowed the bitch down.
“Give us the seal!” another demented cheerleader wailed from the corner. She used Nix’s tattoo chair to pull herself upright.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Get out of my shop!” Nix summoned more water, ready to drown them out if necessary. So far the damage to the place was minimal and she wanted to keep it that way. Water was easy to clean up. Broken furniture and cracked walls, not so much.
Nix raised her palms upward. Liquid flowed, pulsing. A sharp stinging blow hit her neck, and her concentration snapped. The water gushed onto the floor. Miss Chesty had tossed a stapler at the back of Nix’s head.
“If you don’t want to cooperate, we can make you.” Miss Chesty’s gnarled hands gripped Jason’s throat. He smiled blissfully as the color drained from his face, their enchantment still in full force.
Nix’s temper exploded. “Get your hands off him.” Anger spilled from her pores. The water boiled on the floor. Enough was enough. She flung her power at them, full force.
The Harpies screamed a long, keening wail. The air reeked of wet, moldy feathers and baked road kill. Flames erupted. The evil bitches’ hair burned. Burned?
Nix dropped her hands. This wasn’t her doing. She turned around.
Calder Quinne stood in the front door. Wave after wave of pissed off rolled inside the shop like a steam train. “I warned you last time. Didn’t I?”
Cal pulled off his sunglasses, exposing his eyes. Nix tried not to gape. Blue—the hottest color of fire—glowed from his eye sockets. The Harpies were about to become toast, and they were too stupid to notice.
The Harpies lined up. Defiant, chins held high, despite singed hair and clothes. Miss Chesty used Jason as a human shield. “Go ahead, Son of Ares. Toast the Hero.”
Cal laughed. The cold kind that meant death was coming. “So limited in your thinking.”
Nix took a step back at the intense heat. Cal seemed to be lost in the moment. The flames danced in his eyes. He was close to the edge of losing control.
Nix gathered all the water she could find and hurled it against the Harpies’ backs. The force knocked them forward. The water rushed under their feet, sweeping them toward the door.
“Cal! Grab Jason!” Nix increased the speed of the water, sending the Harpies outside in a flood of tangled arms and legs. Curious bystanders watched as a group of soaked, bedraggled teenagers moaned in the middle of the street. Motorists swerved to avoid them. The Harpies took the hint and crossed the street.
“You haven’t won, Nymph!” Miss Chesty yelled. “The end times are coming and you can’t stop us—”
She squealed, the rest of her speech cut short by a well-timed fireball up the miniskirt. They ran down the road, leaving behind the stench of smoked road kill.
“Good riddance to them.” Jason staggered on the sidewalk, holding his head. “I need a gallon of mouth wash and a long shower.”
Nix sniffed the air. “Yup, you do stink.”
“Thanks, boss.” Jason sat on the front step, rubbing his temples. “Man. I have a headache.”
“Do you remember what they wanted?” Cal asked.
“They kept babbling about a seal.” Jason lifted his head. “And they wanted me to dig out all the tattoo books. When I showed them what we had, they got angry and insisted I get Memphis’ older designs. Nix, you know which ones I mean, right?”
Nix nodded. She knew. Those books were locked in her safe.
Memphis had been specific in his directions that they be locked away. The designs, many of them ancient, were sacred and not to be inked
on any old fool with coin to spare
. Memphis’ exact words.
When she had asked her uncle, “Who could they be used on?” he had smiled and said, “You’ll know.”
Not very fucking helpful.
“Go clean up. I’ll take it from here.” Nix stopped him. “By the way, where are Mary and Basil?”
Jason pulled his sorry ass vertical. “She took him to the groomer. Remember? Today’s nail trimming day.” No one could trim Basil’s nails, except the local groomer. When anyone else tried it, he would bite and carry on. The bird was such a pain.
By the time Mary and Basil returned, the shop had been cleaned up in time for the next appointment. Cal spent his time in the backroom making phone calls. He resisted all of Nix’s attempts to find out where he had been prior to the Harpy attack.
The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, until closing time. Nix smelled the Satyr before he even entered the shop. She stopped disinfecting, cracked her knuckles, ready to kick ass. Cal swung out of the backroom like Tarzan on a vine, intercepting her before she could knock the cretin out the door.
“Ward, why are you in my shop?”
“I’m here to request Sanctuary.” Devlin had a small valise in one hand, a potted plant in the other, and a backpack slung over his shoulder. “The Harpies are casing my joint. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Well, that just frosted her fanny. Sanctuary—a long forgotten and seldom followed tradition, invoking the old rules of hearth and home. To refuse Sanctuary in the face of genuine need was asking for all kinds of bad Karma, luck, fate, or however you wanted to see it.
Nix deflated. “Fine. I grant your request. You can sleep in the guest room.”
The Satyr’s face lit up. “Thanks, Nix.”
“Don’t get too comfortable. Once we kick their bitch asses back to Kingdom Come, you’re going back to your place.” Good grief, what was she going to do with a Satyr? Sleep with one eye open?
“I won’t forget this kindness. I’ll find my way upstairs.”
Nix shouted after him, “Stay out of my room, or I will make sure your bed stays perpetually wet.” As Devlin clomped up the stairs, his footsteps fading upward, she was overcome with the shakes. Adrenaline faded, and she wanted to collapse. What was this all about? Something about Satyrs pushed all her buttons. Damned memory block.
Strong, firm fingers gripped her arm. “Come here.” Cal dragged her into the backroom and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Shhh.” He rubbed her back in slow circles. Her body sank into his, comfortable, familiar with every nook and cranny.
“Why do I feel so safe with you?” she wondered out loud. When Cal’s muscles tensed, she pulled away. “What is it? You know something about me. Don’t you?”
Cal cursed his stupidity. He could never fool her for long. Nix had always been able to read him like a book. “Nix, please.”
“Don’t hide behind Father’s ridiculous rules.” Nix may have been angry, but she didn’t break the embrace either.
“The rules exist for a good reason. And no, I don’t know everything about your life during missions.” He skirted the question, hoping she wouldn’t make the distinction.
“Oh, so you know some things then.”
So much for hope. Cal drank in Nix’s ruffled appearance. Her black hair hung loose around her shoulders, tussled from the knockdown with the Harpies. The blush on her cheeks made her lush skin glow, ripe for his kisses.
Fingers snapped in his face. “Hey, quite daydreaming. Are you going to answer me?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss League business.” Cal’s whole body was alight for her. He took a step back.
Nix pressed in closer, the tips of her breasts just brushing his chest. “Tell me what you know.”
The scent of sweet taffy drifted on the air, tantalizing his nose. Gods she smelled good. He shook his head. “Don’t try Nymph charms on me.” Because it was working. Or really, it was her. He wanted her.
“Please. I have more class than that,” Nix huffed and stepped away, crossing her arms over her chest, flattening her cleavage.
Cal’s mouth watered. He knew the scent of her up close and personal. Knew the sounds she made before she came. The echo of her orgasms pinged around his mind. At that moment, he hated Fate. He hated that he remembered everything and she could recall nothing.
Nix’s cheeks flushed. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
Maybe that wasn’t true. She said she felt safe with him. Her body had to remember him, even if her mind didn’t. Before he could change his mind, Cal closed the distance between them, cupped Nix’s chin, and kissed her.
The moments his lips made contact with hers, electric jolts raced up and down his skin. A jumble of emotions competed for air time. Elation, hope, lust . . . fear of rejection. It all dashed away. Firm soft lips, smooth as velvet, welcomed his touch. Her mouth parted. He wasted no time teasing her tongue with his. He savored every second, because it wouldn’t be long before—