“Would that I could.” Gwydion squeezed her hand.
They turned down a street walled by old buildings, with barely enough room for a two-lane street and the sidewalks that ran in front of shop fronts.
Kirby nodded at a Bentley, parked halfway on the sidewalk. “Check out the jackass.”
“He’ll get his.” When it came to karma, Aeval and her kin were swift and direct in its delivery.
Kirby snorted. “Right.”
Stepping inside the coffee shop was like passing through a gateway to whimsy. Light curtains fluttered in a breeze that didn’t exist. Splashes of color and flowers covered the walls, and the furniture was tastefully eclectic.
“What is this revolting shit?” The harsh question came from a man at the counter. He wore a suit that probably cost more than all of the decor in the place combined, and held a paper coffee cup and a scone. “This is supposed to be the best fucking coffee in Wales, and you serve me shit-flavored water instead?”
Kirby started to pull her hand away, and Gwydion gripped tighter.
“I’m sorry you’re unhappy, sir. I can make you a new drink.” The man behind the counter matched the rest of the room and looked to be in his early twenties. He was probably ten times that.
The businessman knocked over the tip jar, and coins flew everywhere. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He tossed his drink on the counter, splattering the tile with coffee.
Kirby tugged harder, and a growl accompanied the glare she threw at Gwydion.
This was a painful sight. He understood her impulse to step in and make things right, but in the end, it wouldn’t be as much fun. He leaned in, to rest his lips near her ear. “As much as I’d love to watch you take that guy down a notch or even just kick him in the nuts, they’ve got this. Trust me.”
“One of these days, your trust me is going to wear out its welcome,” Kirby murmured. “And behind you.”
The man’s phone rang as he stalked from the shop. His shout of anger could be heard through the door, after it shut behind him.
“Gwydion. It’s been ages.” Aeval’s sweet, accented voice came from behind.
He spun, to find her watching them. “I try not to keep track,” he said.
She cupped his face in her palms and pressed her lips to his. As kisses went, it was pleasant. She’d never sent the heat searing through him that Kirby did, but for a while, he and Aeval had been happy to distract each other.
Aeval broke away and twisted her mouth into disappointment. “Is this her?” She knew exactly where Gwydion’s heart belonged and why he’d ended their romance.
“Yes.”
Aeval looked at Kirby, then nodded out the front window. “Watch.”
Kirby looked over her shoulder. Asshole-in-a-Suit was in his Bentley, gesturing angrily.
“I can’t believe he’s that pissed over bad coffee,” Kirby said.
“My coffee is the best you’ll ever have.” Indignation lined Aeval’s reply. “And he’s not. He’s furious because the largest share of his portfolio plummeted in price five minutes ago, and even though he saw it coming, he forgot to confirm the transaction when he went to sell this morning.”
In Gwydion’s experience, that was only the beginning of the man’s bad news. It was never a good idea to insult the fae.
A large truck turned the corner at the far end of the street, its top swaying from the too-fast speed. A scooter moved into sight from the other direction. The moped driver tried to swerve, but there wasn’t enough room. The truck veered to its left. The only place for it to go was into the Bentley. The crunch of metal screeched through the air, as the car was pinned between the truck and the brick.
Kirby gasped.
“No one’s hurt.” Aeval sounded casual. “But no one out there is innocent. We believe in making our own justice.”
“Neat trick.” Kirby turned back to face her, and Gwydion did the same. “Don’t suppose you can teach me how to do it?”
Aeval dragged her gaze over Kirby, lingering on her face. “No, beautiful. The justice you deliver would clash with mine.”
Kirby frowned. “Oh.”
“Do you have a few minutes for an old friend?” Gwydion asked.
“For you, always.” Aeval nodded to a table in the back corner. “Jayden, three large specials.”
Gwydion pulled out a chair for Kirby, and scooted it in as she sat. He was home. He had this amazing woman by his side.
Too bad the serenity and perfection were flimsier than any illusion he’d ever cast.
KIRBY WAS STILL MAKING up her mind about Aeval, but so far, she was cautiously entertained and optimistic. And the coffee was incredible. She couldn’t identify individual flavors, but it was like joy mixed with melancholy.
“Well?” Aeval nodded at Kirby’s cup.
“It’s really good.”
Aeval was smug. “Of course it is. What can I do for you, handsome? Or did you just come by to introduce your Valkyrie? Not that I’m minding.”
Gwydion’s posture had relaxed since they stepped inside the shop. “She’s not mine.”
“Yet,” Aeval said.
Kirby wanted to protest, but her tension was fading as each moment passed. Was it the drink? She didn’t feel less alert or aware. She did a quick once-over of the street outside, ticking off all the available hiding spots for danger, and comparing it to the list she’d made in her head when they approached.
Nope. She was still seeing and processing it all. She just wasn’t concerned about the consequences.
Really incredible coffee. And something she couldn’t afford to drink ever again. Not that she could leave this cup half full. No reason to insult their charming hostess.
Aeval hid a smile behind her cup.
“I’m hoping you can point us in a direction.” Gwydion sounded less stressed as well. “Toward someone who knows about Hel and Loki.”
Aeval’s cheer slipped, but flitted back in a flash. “You know the rule. We’re not involved in their war. The prophecies don’t mention fae. We never registered on Urd’s radar until her people came here.”
Irritation surged in Kirby but was squelched by something harsh. Not a fan of the drink after all. “A shift in power like that applies to everyone. It doesn’t matter that the gods interact more quietly with humans than in the past. They still influence the world, and if some are intentionally destroying others, that influence is disrupted.” Hel. Loki. Others like them. These gods were killing and torturing and brainwashing for their own gain.
“Some people and some gods will die, and others will rise, and tomorrow the world will still spin on its axis.” Aeval fixed her with a hard stare.
“Hmm...” Gwydion didn’t look affected by the tension or news, one way or the other. “You have that in common with Freya. She said something quite similar.”
Kirby clenched her jaw at the reminder that her chosen deity had willingly refused to take part in such an important war. It couldn’t be true. They misunderstood Freya, or something else interfered.
Aeval growled. “Freya is a coward. Her people created this mess—”
“Take it back.” Kirby half rose in her seat, indignation pumping through her veins.
Aeval didn’t flinch. “Save your worship for those who deserve it, Valkyrie. Like him.” She nodded at Gwydion.
Gwydion covered Kirby’s hand.
The unspoken message was louder than any words. Stand down. Kirby’s irritation burned away the lingering effects of the coffee. She didn’t care for being dismissed or leashed. A sliver of reason reminded her this was the place for diplomacy, and she argued back that Gwydion should have come alone in that case.
“You don’t actually believe the consequences of this conflict won’t reach you,” Gwydion said. “That the outcome doesn’t matter. You live in this world, rather than existing on the fringes. It’s as much a part of you as you are of it.”
“This is a truth.” Aeval sighed and set her drink down. “You don’
t have to convince me. Our new leaders—the council, the representatives—they’ve turned us into a bureaucracy, and it makes me ill. I’m the fucking queen, and I refuse to let those assholes destroy everything. Besides, new gods would mix up life and add a new sparkle to the world. Nothing wrong with a little death and rebirth, as long as everyone has a fair chance.”
Kirby’s irritation faded. Maybe Aeval wasn’t so bad after all.
“Point me in a direction,” Gwydion said. “Tell me who to talk to. More than humans walk through your doors. You’ve heard volumes of gossip over the years, and you’re brilliant at remembering it.”
“It’s true. I am.” Was Aeval preening? “I want a kiss from your lover first.”
Gwydion raised an eyebrow. “That’s not mine to offer.”
“Favor for a favor.”
Kirby stifled a chuckle. This was probably the point where she was supposed to huff and be offended. To say her physical affection wasn’t a prize to be traded on a whim.
Cliché request, but Kirby wasn’t going to turn it down. It was a fucking kiss, and the stunningly manic queen of the fae was asking for it. “You’re expecting me to balk.”
For the first time since they arrived, Aeval looked like she’d been caught off guard.
Kirby half rose in her seat, leaned across the table, and brushed her mouth over Aeval’s, before deepening the kiss. She lingered, pouring all her passion into the contact and mixing in a smattering of tiny nibbles and licks along Aeval’s lips.
She knew it was a good kiss, and Aeval’s and Gwydion’s groans backed her up.
Kirby sank back into her seat, trying and failing to hide her bubbling giddiness under a shy mask.
Aeval brushed her fingers over her bottom lip. “That’s worth a lot of information. Which is good, because what I know is big. The Genii Cucullati can give you want you need.”
“The Hooded Spirits?” Kirby’s past lives were supplying her with all sorts of ancient languages.
Aeval shook her head, amusement splayed on her face. “You speak in ancient tongues. You’re full of surprises.”
Knowing the words didn’t mean Kirby understood their relevance
“Don’t suppose you can get us into one of their gatherings,” Gwydion said.
“Rumor is they’re not fond of Min, if you still travel with him.”
“Then he won’t join me. I have a far more stunning date, anyway.” Gwydion nodded toward Kirby. “And they owe me a favor, but not one I want to waste, gaining entrance.”
Aeval pulled her phone, seemingly from nowhere. “I know a girl who knows a guy who can get you in for Summer Solstice.”
Only a few days away. Convenient. Then again, the entire offer felt too easy. “What’s it going to cost us?”
“We’ll call it even. That was one hell of a kiss.” Aeval licked her lips.
Kirby didn’t buy that. “Is that the only reason you’re offering all of this information and help?”
“Not the only reason, but pretending I’m that flighty is good for my reputation. I don’t want you as an enemy, and I like this world and the people in it. Don’t let your gods destroy life for the rest of us.”
If only stopping the gods was as easy as something like going to a Solstice party.
Chapter Eleven
Min didn’t like the way things were unfolding. Agreeing to let Kirby pursue this vengeance was a bad idea. What happened in London, with TOM pursuing her, reinforced the foolishness of it all.
He was trying to understand where she was coming from, but he didn’t see it.
“This is going to destroy her.” He paced his painfully small hotel-room, venting his frustrations at Daz.
The other god listened patiently, as he always did. “She may want that.”
Another thing that bothered Min. Kirby not only didn’t seem to fear death, it also was as if she pursued her own. A dangerous proclivity, to begin with, but far worse for someone who had died so many times. “I don’t know what to say to her, to make her listen.”
“You may not be able to say anything.” Daz had been by Min’s side for a few centuries. He’d witnessed Kirby come and go. He said he stayed because he owed Min, for saving his life. In truth, it was because Daz loved him. The passion that flowed from Daz was impossible to ignore. Min had made his feelings for Kirby, and his intent to continue pursuing her, clear.
Daz understood. That didn’t stop him from trying to steer Min away from Kirby’s memory, disguising the attempts as comfort, each time she died. “This may be your chance for closure,” Daz said. “An opportunity to sever ties with her while she’s still here, and not be beholden to a spirit you can never appease.”
“I made her a promise, and it’s in place until she decides she doesn’t want it.” Min had never considered Daz’s suggestion before. So why did the words linger in his head today? “She’s still the same beautiful, kind, brilliant soul I fall in love with each time I meet her.” The difference was she now held a lot of beliefs he didn’t agree with. “Even if she does have a taste for death.”
“She’s a Valkyrie. Starkad was, is, and always will be right about that. She was created to be a creature of war, and to take life when appropriate.”
That wasn’t where Min’s reservations lay. “Sending a fallen warrior to the afterlife is different from executing a man on the street.”
Daz nodded. “To you and me. To her, the streets are modern warzones.”
“That’s not true.” But it was. Min had seen her as they strolled through Piccadilly Square. And again in the café here. She was always on alert. Always waiting for the next battle.
Could he accept Kirby if that never changed? If she continued to be this urban warrior? Was he capable of meeting her halfway when it came to her perspective of what a threat was?
Min didn’t know.
AS GWYDION STROLLED back to the hotel with Kirby, he bounced options in his head about how to break the news. In any other life, she’d jump at a chance like this. Now, he had no idea how she’d react. He didn’t suspect she’d have a problem with the orgy side of things, but she might with the naked-without-weapons and surrounded-by-gods aspects.
“Are we going shopping, or will they let me in the door like this?” Kirby gestured to her clothing. “It sounds like a pretty casual event. Am I right?”
No and yes. This was as good a segue as any. “If you show up like that, they’ll cut the clothes off you before they let you in.”
“Nice.” She cut her laugh short, and her footsteps faltered. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“Are we talking no clothing at all? As in, we wear trench coats with nothing underneath, and check them upon arrival?” Her voice didn’t give anything away around how she felt.
Gwydion knew exactly how this next bit was going to sound. “More like hooded cloaks and masks, with nothing underneath.” That wasn’t as true these days; clothing was optional, and masks weren’t.
“Secret sex party? How very Ninth Gate, Eyes Wide Shut.”
Yup. That was what he thought. He tried to look offended. “The Genii Cucullati are older that most of us, and by us, I mean the gods. Their teachings have been lost, misinterpreted, and twisted, but as gods, they’re still good, kind, and giving.”
“And have solstice orgies.”
“Which are not mutually exclusive from good, kind, or giving.”
“Touché.” Kirby’s laugh was back.
“Are you up for this, pet?”
“What makes you think I’m going to be your pet anywhere, let alone at some public and lewd display of lust?”
“Instinct. Wishful thinking. That night in Salt Lake.”
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Convince me.”
He could do that. “You’ll look completely harmless, and no one will have any idea you’re one of the deadliest people in the room. And I’ll buy you a collar.”
“You say the sexiest things.” Kirby tangled her fingers with
his and leaned into him as they walked.
That went well. Now to convince Starkad and Min this was their best lead to keep moving forward. Not that Gwydion would take no for an answer from anyone except Kirby, but things would go more smoothly if everyone agreed.
“I’M NOT ON BOARD WITH this.” Starkad trusted Kirby in any combat situation. He had no doubt that, with a weapon in her hand, she’d survive any urban warzone. He didn’t like any bit of this, though. Not that he was willing to admit it was because of the envy, clawing inside. He didn’t care about the sex. Or perhaps only a little. It was about how easily Kirby slid into things with Gwydion. Again. The one thing that never changed. “We all have other sources.”
“Which we’ve tapped. These are our last resorts,” Gwydion said. “We’re lucky Aeval had anything. How many misses have we had before now?”
Dozens. Hundreds. Starkad had lost count.
The four of them were in his hotel room, discussing Gwydion’s lead. Min was disconcertingly quiet. In the past, Starkad had gotten information from Brit, coordinated through Min with Followers of Urd for a safe house and relocation for the target, and planned the execution with Kirby.
Starkad didn’t care for this decision-by-committee bullshit. “I’m opposed, regardless.”
“You’ve had years together, playing the nineteen-fifties television version of house. Let Kirby choose to enjoy someone else’s company for a while.” Gwydion was never going to drop this.
Starkad looked to Min for backup and tried to ignore that Kirby hadn’t offered any protest. “Do you think this is a good idea?”
“I’d go myself, if I thought they’d allow me in the door.” Min shrugged. “These are peaceful gatherings. My only objection is they’re going for reasons other than to enjoy the sex. If the goal is to meet the hosts, these two simply have to draw the right kind of attention.”
The drawing attention bit was the other issue Starkad had with the idea.
“I doubt they’re going to balk if I have two dates.” Kirby finally spoke up. “Or is that some sort of orgy etiquette I’m not familiar with? Do I need to learn rules that don’t apply at normal dinner parties before I go?”
Death in the Night (Legacy, #2) Page 10
