by LJ Vickery
Tess heard some low grumbling about postponing the game, but Kabta’s voice returned full force within hesitation.
I can do better than that, Kabta exclaimed. Do you remember our cousin, Kishar? He didn’t wait for a confirmation. She’s recently been elevated to the head goddess of female principles. She knows all about women’s issues, and I’m sure she can help. Also, her new status allows her unlimited travel. I’ll send her right down.
Kabta, you’re the best, Kulla thanked him, with Marduk and Tess chiming in their thanks over the increased cries of their baby. Now all they had to do was wait.
****
By the time the swirling violet mist appeared and just as quickly dissipated, a tall, blonde goddess was already laughing. She took in the crying baby and the ice on Tess’s chest, and ascertained the problem instantly. “Oh, you poor thing,” her melodious voice instantly soothed Tess. “You’ve been attempting this all by yourself?”
Tess looked around blankly, and got similar reactions from everyone present. Dani-Lee spoke up, “Well, what else was she supposed to do?”
It was Kishar’s turn to look confused. “Contact her cooperator, of course. Where is she?” The goddess perused the room. “Harrumph. Obviously indisposed. You should have called for another,” the goddess admonished.
“Uh, what’s a…cooperator?” Tess managed.
Marduk brought the now screaming baby to his wife. She stifled a yelp as Girin latched on.
“Oh dear.” Kishar took a good long look at Marduk and her cousin Kulla, to whom she gave a little smile. “Duh. You’re the gods who were banished; the ones just now finding your Chosen. You’re all the talk in the Overworld. I hadn’t thought―nobody did―about the things that would be new to you and your mates. I feel like an idiot for not realizing.”
Tess interrupted. Tears ran down her cheeks as the pain increased. “Could you feel like an idiot later, and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”
“You are doing nothing wrong, you poor child. Nothing,” soothed the goddess, sitting next to Tess’s legs on the bed and putting out a comforting hand. “When a god is born, his demands are far too great for one woman alone. No single, untrained goddess is capable of producing enough milk for such a lusty little fellow. For that reason, we have females, known as coordinators, who are assigned to the households of male newborns. They are groomed and schooled to take the larger burden of feeding, satisfying the tiny god with their abundance. Only after feeding to his contentment is he allowed to suckle the mother. His suction will then be gentle, not this frantic pursuit for milk that doesn’t exist.” She waived a hand at Girin, who was scrabbling and gulping for whatever drops were left in Tess’s depleted body.
“Can you help us?” Tess closed her eyes against the pain. Marduk was readying for another forcible removal.
“In minutes, my dear girl,” Kishar assured. She retreated inward, and Tess, peeking through squinched lashes, could tell she was having a discussion to which they were not privy. The goddess smiled, scowled, and smiled again.
Tess waited not so patiently. Oddly, it seemed as if Girin―who had for once slowed in his attempted ingestion―waited too.
“I’m sorry that took so long.” The goddess wrinkled her pretty nose. “I found a coordinator right away, but I had to locate one of the council to get her special permission for travel to the mid-world.” Tess knew that was what the overgods called Earth. “Vesca should be arriving soon.”
Almost immediately, a new mist appeared, and out of it stepped a woman who exuded calm. She was young, plump, and well-endowed. She also had the brightest smile Tess had ever seen. There was no hesitation as she approached the bed.
“I’m Vesca, and I’ll be your coordinator.” She shook Tess’s hand before dropping the top half of her dress unselfconsciously, baring a magnificent pair of large, pink-tipped breasts. She didn’t seem to care who was in the room. “Let’s see if we can get this young man interested in an alternate source of nourishment.”
Tess happily scooted over, and the newly arrived goddess climbed into bed beside her. It was the most amazing thing. As soon as the new deity got close, Girin’s eyes widened. One little hand reached out to grope blindly in Vesca’s direction.
“That’s right, little one. Give Mommy a break and come see Auntie Vesca.”
Girin’s mouth popped off Tess’s nipple of its own volition for the first time.
Tess started at the pain, but also gave a huge sigh of relief. Her baby went right into Vesca’s open arms, honed in on the new nipple and locked his little lips in place, drawing as if he’d not just been fed all Tess had to offer.
“Ooh. He’s got a good strong mouth.” Vesca squealed.
“You might say that.” Tess let tears of joy slide down her cheeks, while slapping the ice packs back on her abused body parts. She eyeballed her husband. “In case you’re wondering, Marduk, Vesca’s sleeping with us tonight.”
She got no argument from her mate. And that was a good thing. Because if she had, he would have been the one bunking down in the hallway. Not their new savior.
In fact, he looked overjoyed. A happy wife and two extra breasts in my bed? Who am I to complain?
Tess’s lips turned up in a grin for the first time since Girin’s initial feeding. There was her lusty husband making a reappearance. Marduk clearly hung around to watch the show. All in the name of supporting motherhood, of course.
Kishar saw that she was no longer needed, but gave Dani her contact information, and let the doctor know that if any of the goddesses ran into female problems, to call her right away. Dani, of course, wondered out loud if the goddess would be willing to teach her a few things. Kishar said she’d try to get the okay for Dani to attend some classes in the Overworld, saying that, after all, neither Dani nor her husband Huxley were among those originally banned.
Tess relaxed, and Marduk eventually snuck out, telling her he was headed to his office. Poor man. He needed to put his feet up for a few minutes and catch a nap before his visitor arrived.
****
Marduk closed his eyes and drifted off with visions of nipples dancing in his head. He was almost to REM when Lenore’s voice startled him awake.
Dorian Penmarch just called. He’s about five minutes out.
Marduk groaned, dazed by his abrupt departure from slumber, and the fact that he had to be the one to let Dorian in, since Shamash―the regular gatekeeper―was in the Underworld.
I’m lowering the barriers for him.
The warlock couldn’t have waited another half hour? Marduk called to Enlil, You’re needed, my friend. He’d let his second-in-command take the lead on this one. Although he’d be there in body, he knew he’d be nothing more than a blithering numbskull if things got complicated. Office, everyone, he called.
Enlil, who Marduk knew had been busy at the computer hunting for god’s bloodlines, drifted into Marduk’s office, followed by Lenore and Enten, the immortals who had been assigned warlock duty. Lenore danced from foot to foot, clearly agitated. The thunder god hadn’t seen the normally unflappable goddess this antsy since months earlier―when under orders from Dagon―she’d been forbidden to have sex with Anshar. Marduk understood. She’d be meeting her grandfather for the first time, and she was so close to her grandmother and mother that Lenore didn’t know exactly how she was going to react to the man who had walked out on her elders nearly fifty years ago.
Addie May had told Lenore that the decision for Dorian to leave had been mutual, and that there remained nothing adversarial between the two. When she’d needed help over the years, he’d helped. There had been funds forwarded for bills and child support; even grandchild support when it came down to it. But he’d done that whole bit of business from far away. Impersonally. And Marduk knew Lenore questioned if she could respect a man like that.
The doorbell rang. The occupants of the office all looked at each other and blinked. Well, hell. They had expected the warlock would appear in a puff of smoke or a
flash of light. Marduk certainly hadn’t anticipated their guest would use the front door.
“I’ll get it,” Enten declared, doing his job and misting to the foyer. But Marduk was right on his heels as he opened the door.
“I’m Enten,” the god said, holding a hand outside where Marduk couldn’t see. “Welcome to the Blue Hills.”
The dark-haired, dark-eyed warlock stepped in and took Enten’s hand. “I’m Dorian.”
Palm met palm.
“God of winter, am I correct?” At Enten’s raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “I did my homework.” He shook a few snowflakes off his two-tiered black cape. “Going a little light on us this year, don’t you think? Even in Wisconsin, we have only a dusting.” The warlock’s lip curled up in what, for him, must pass as humor. Marduk could see Enten’s answering, cold smile and almost laughed. Kindred spirits?
Enten gave Dorian an explanation. “I was recently mated, and we’re expecting a child in early fall. If the new babe in residence is any indication, I need to save my energy for after the birth.”
“Ah yes. Been there, done that,” the warlock conceded with a nod. He drew off black leather gloves and let his gaze roam around the enormous foyer, resting on Marduk who strode forward.
“Marduk, I presume?”
Marduk gave an affirmative nod.
“Dorian Penmarch. I’m pleased to meet you.”
Marduk also received a hearty handshake before he agreed. “Likewise.”
Dorian raised eyes to the stained-glass dome above his head. “I’d have to say that my women have landed on their feet.” He sounded neither happy nor unhappy, which puzzled Marduk. But who knew when it came to magical beings. They were a strange bunch. He and Enten drew Dorian deeper into the house and down the hall to the office.
“Your granddaughter is waiting,” Marduk informed him.
Enten held open the door for him, and the warlock who followed.
Dorian Penmarch entered and strode directly to Lenore, ignoring all others in the room. He picked up one limp hand and raised it to his lips. “You, my dear, look charming, and I can’t wait to catch up, but there’s someone I need to see who’s been on my mind for a very long time.” His deep, bold eyes bored into Lenore’s startled ones. “Where is Addie May?”
Chapter Twelve
Jake rolled his shoulders as he prowled the hallway. He hadn’t slept very well. The time change between West and East Coasts always made sleeping difficult for him. He’d picked up his rental car the previous evening after getting off the plane, and checked into his hotel before doing a quick drive-by of Anna Kensilton’s address. It was no luxury complex. Clean, but run down, the building had seen better days. Understandable. Since an aging Anna wasn’t collecting any government benefits, it was probably all she could afford.
This morning, Jake arrived early and had no trouble breaching the nonexistent security to stake out the second-floor corridor where Anna lived. He positioned himself far enough away from her door so as not to alarm her, but near enough to get a good look when she came out. He didn’t have to wait long.
The door opened. Jake tensed, then relaxed. It wasn’t her. The woman who emerged had to be the cleaning lady. She was young, slight, and wore a kerchief covering what looked to be a mass of blonde curls. In her hands were a bucket, a mop, and a square tote stuffed with rags and bottles of cleaners.
Odd. If Anna was tight on money, how could she pay a cleaning woman? Maybe it was a neighbor helping out. Jake watched with interest as lean hips swayed down the hallway in the opposite direction. Cute, but not what he was here for. He leaned back, waiting for his Ms. Kensilton to appear.
All day, Jake waited. He was good on a stakeout. He had his phone and lately had become addicted to a couple of popular video games, not to mention―as the day wore on and his buddies on the West Coast became available―his engagement in seven simultaneous games with them. He’d packed some power bars in his deep winter coat pockets, and had selected a few additional snacks from the hotel vending machine before setting out; water, too, but not much. He couldn’t afford to be looking for a bathroom and miss an opportunity.
Eleven hours later, Jake was ready to call it quits for the day. If he encountered the same lack of movement tomorrow, he’d have to step things up. He could either break in or pretend to be a magazine salesman. He preferred breaking in.
Jake leveraged himself off the wall, but quickly slid back into the shadows as footsteps approached from the far end of the hall. A slight figure paused at the Kensilton door, and Jake slid forward slowly to have a look. The dim bulbs made it difficult to see.
Damn. It was the same cleaning woman from this morning, looking worse for wear with her kerchief askew and her feet dragging. She removed a key from her pocket and shoved it into the lock. Strange. Anna had a roommate? It didn’t jibe. The Abelards’ mother, according to everything they’d found out about her, was a loner. Jake could only figure that perhaps she’d become infirm, and it had become necessary to engage a part-time caretaker. That probably bit heavily into what meager savings the woman had. Trading rent for care? With what the gods had to offer, it seemed like a good time to have found her.
Jake’s stomach rumbled. Yeah. It was time to call it quits for the night and get some real food. His brain synapsis fired at the thought of food. He recalled an open-all-day breakfast joint on the way back to the hotel that would do the trick.
At seven the next morning, Jake returned to the apartment complex. With a good night’s sleep and a belly full of pancakes, he was optimistic that the day would prove fruitful. He sipped his to-go coffee and waited.
Once again, at seven-fifteen sharp, little miss sashay-butt―loaded down with the tools of her trade―came back out the door and off into the world. If what Jake surmised was true, there was no need to wait this time. He drank down the last gulp of java and made his way to the door. He might be an idiot, but he’d decided to try the diplomatic approach first. If he broke in, she’d never trust him, and he had a lot of strange shit to say that she needed to understand. Better to start off on the right foot.
Jake brought his knuckles up to the door and rapped. He waited a long twenty seconds and repeated the summons more aggressively. Still no response.
“Miss Kensilton?” he called, putting his ear to the door. Not a sound came from within. Okay. Maybe he wouldn’t be so polite. He removed a small folder from his pocket and extracted a long thin piece of metal. Twelve seconds later, he was standing in Anna’s living room.
Whatever he’d thought to find, this wasn’t it. Jake had expected overstuffed chairs, crocheted blankets, and braided rugs to take the edge off an aging, wall-to-wall carpeted, faded paint, cabbage-smelling apartment. What he saw was…almost nothing. Sure, a rucked up old green rug covered the floor, but the paint job on the walls was fresh and stark. There was a single sofa in the middle of the room. And an equally spartan, sleek-lined coffee table held several neatly stacked books. There was no TV, no stereo, no nothing. One shelving unit stood against a wall, and Jake stepped closer to have a look.
He bit back an oath. Picture upon picture of female twins, from baby through toddler years, smiled back at him. Happy, cherub babies he recognized instantly as Tess and Holly. Another shelf? More pictures. This time of a bright towheaded baby with deep brown eyes. Huxley. What the hell? The woman had no knick-knacks, no doo-dads, no clutter. Just these photos. Not a single piece of art graced the walls, and there wasn’t a throw pillow to be found. Jake’s friends teased that his apartment was bare bones, but this one made his look like a flea market.
Clearing his mind of all expectations, he walked down a short hall to the one…one bedroom? Surely the old woman had to be inside. He knocked on the door that stood partially closed, and cautiously eased inward.
“Anna?” he called gently, not wanting to startle her awake. The bed was empty.
In sharp contrast to the living room, the bed was a jumbled-up mess of a comfortable, fluffy white down-f
illed duvet, strewn with overstuffed feather pillows. It hadn’t been made, and an array of colorful magazines lay peaking from under and around the plush coverings. Jake took a moment to breathe in the fresh yet heady smell of vanilla and mint. Hell, this was no old lady’s room. It had to belong to the petite maid he’d seen come and go. If that were the case, where the hell was Anna Kensilton? Something wasn’t right here.
He emerged into the hallway, and was about to explore the galley kitchen, when he heard the snick of a key. Shit. Someone was letting themselves in. Jake held his breath and slid into the small bathroom, leaving the door ajar behind him. It would be best to remain unseen until he found out what was going on.
The apartment door clicked closed, and light footsteps brushed across the carpet before pausing. Try as he might, Jake couldn’t hear another thing. Had whoever it was taken a seat on the couch? He eased in a deep breath, ready to make his presence known.
“Don’t move, asshole,” the voice ordered. They were close. On the other side of the door. Jake heard feminine, strong, and totally pissed off.
“I want your hands on the back of your head, and you to move out here slowly. Do not turn around. Face away from me. I have a gun and it’s pointed right at you.” Her demands were succinct.
Jake chose to do what he was told, and followed orders to the T. He hadn’t come here to have his brains splattered all over these pristine walls. What was the matter with him? Since when had he become so lazy that he hadn’t been prepared for this? Just because he’d believed he was dealing with one old woman, didn’t mean shit. He cursed under his breath.
“What was that?” the women questioned sharply.
“I said, ‘fuck’,” Jake swore again, walking into the living room. He blew a long breath out his mouth. “I fell right into your hands, didn’t I?” There was a snort behind him as he stepped slowly into the middle of the uncluttered space.
“I saw you in the hallway yesterday,” the voice said, “morning and night, and then again today. What do you want?”
