by Nina Bangs
“What he means is that your face is so noticeable that it overwhelms your hair now. It’s like the hair isn’t even there. So basically, you’re bald.” Did that make sense? Probably not. But he refused to lie and say her face was grotesque, no matter what she wanted.
“Any thoughts on how to keep Loki from fulfilling the prophecy, Declan?” She’d just closed all discussion of her hair.
“None. The gods are pretty much indestructible. I guess gods can kill other gods, but none of us have god credentials.”
“Speak for yourself. You’ve never seen me get serious, bloodsucker. What I did back at the church was just a warm-up.” No one would ever accuse Ganymede of lacking confidence.
“Hey, I believe you. But we need contingency plans.” Declan glanced at Ganymede. “Just in case he kicks your ass.” Ganymede looked surprised that anyone thought it could happen. “Yeah, yeah. So if it makes you happy, we’ll figure out a plan B.”
Daria seemed hesitant. “I hate to be the one to bring this up, Ganymede, but didn’t you say you’re not allowed to kill anything?”
“Shit. I forgot.”
The rest of Ganymede’s pie disappeared. “So if we can’t whack him, then we have to figure out how to keep him under the church.” Ganymede didn’t seem to think that was such a great idea. “Cindy and Thrain won’t go for it. Too many fingers plus missing guests add up to trouble for the Woo Woo Inn.”
“Will there still be a battle if Fenrir isn’t there?” Lost in thought, Daria wound a strand of her hated new hair around one finger.
Declan shook his head to clear it of thoughts about her winding her hair around his cock. “I don’t think so. In order for a prophecy to be fulfilled, all the elements have to be there. Loki alone isn’t strong enough to destroy all the other gods. His two other children might help, but they need Fenrir’s power and ferocity.”
Ganymede looked forlornly at the empty pie tin. “I’ve gotta think about this, and I can’t think on an empty stomach. Get the ice cream outta the freezer for me, bloodsucker.”
Declan figured the cook was going to go ballistic when she checked her dessert supplies. He didn’t intend to stick around to witness it. Digging a carton of Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer, he pried off the top and put the whole thing on Ganymede’s table.
“Do lots of thinking while you’re chowing down. I’m heading for the parlor.” Declan glanced at Daria.
“I’ll walk with you. I have to relieve Katie at the desk.” She didn’t make eye contact.
They’d almost reached the desk before she spoke. “Will it bother you if we end up destroying Fenrir?”
Trouble wandered over, tail wagging, and walked with them.
“No.” Maybe.
“I guess you never knew him. He wasn’t there for you and your mom.” She reached down to pat the dog’s head.
“My mother was a one-night, no, make that a fifteen-minute stand for him.” And now I’m following in his footsteps, or would that be paw prints? Thank Odin, Declan hadn’t inherited his dad’s werewolf genes.
“It must’ve been hard for her.”
“Vampires didn’t operate by all the rules humans did at that time.”
“Do you have kids? And do you treat your kids like your mom and dad treated you?” Trouble cocked his head to one side as if trying to understand the conversation.
Surprised, Declan glanced down. He’d almost forgotten Trouble wasn’t a real dog. He thought about his answer. Trouble might be a cosmic troublemaker, but he was only a child. “I have two sons and two daughters. But that was a long time ago.” Were they still alive? He chose to believe they were. His few memories of them were old and faded around the edges, but he refused to let them go. “When they were little, they’d all come running into the house together and Grim would shout, ‘We’re home.’ Grim was their spokesman and he always said the same words. Funny what you remember. I loved them.” He tried to keep the softness from his voice. That was a different time. A time when emotions still ran strong in him.
Declan got the feeling he hadn’t succeeded, because he felt Daria wrap her fingers around his clenched fist. She squeezed and her support was in the warmth of her hand.
“What’re their names?” Trouble turned happy brown eyes up to him, oblivious of all undercurrents.
“My daughters are Bera and Finna. My sons are Alrek and Grim.”
Trouble laughed. “Grim. Like the fairy tales. Where are they now?”
“I lost them.”
“Then why don’t you find them?” Trouble asked.
Declan was relieved he didn’t wait around for an answer. Trouble spotted Mel the bully rabbit and slunk away.
Declan expected Daria to comment. She didn’t. When they reached the desk, she simply dropped his hand and smiled.
“I think I need a little fresh air,” Declan announced. Would she understand that he wanted some space? “I’ll be out on the porch.”
Her smile said she understood that alone was a good place to be once in a while. “Don’t forget to look up before you step off the porch.”
“Will do.” By the time he pushed the screen door open, she was talking to Katie.
He stood at the edge of the porch staring out into the darkness. Emotions? After so many years? Sure felt like it. First that touch of sadness for the good-old-dad who’d never existed. Then the sense of loss over his kids that he thought he’d packed away long ago.
His feelings for Daria? A little more complicated than he liked. Did he still want his one night? You bet. But he enjoyed being with her more than he should. Once she made her snatch and flew back to Tartarus, he might just miss her. He’d avoided missing anyone for lots of years.
He was so busy thinking about Daria that he didn’t notice the pressure beginning at the back of his head until it slammed into him and dropped him to his knees.
His pain was the searing agony of a knife plunged into his brain. It blinded him, and if he’d had any breath, the pain would’ve taken that too.
“Declan, Declan, you try my patience. The time draws near when the prophecy will be fulfilled. I need you now. Come to me.”
Fenrir’s voice exploded inside his head, and if Declan could have ripped open his skull to let the voice out, he would have.
“Now, Declan.”
The pain had taken his voice so he couldn’t even call help. He seemed to have no will of his own as he climbed to his feet and staggered off the porch. Trying to close the door on his pain, he pulled the ragged edges of his vampire power to him. He focused that power inward, fighting to force Fenrir from his mind. He managed to slow down his drunken stagger toward the woods, but the pain didn’t let up.
Help. He needed some freaking help. No voice to yell with, so he’d have to reach for someone’s mind. Who? If only the pain would stop for a minute so he could think.
Ganymede. Powerful enough to hear him despite the pain.
The agony pounded, pounded, pounded as he tried to reach for Ganymede. No go. He couldn’t get past the pain. As his legs continued to take him on a wobbling course toward the church, a wave of terror washed over him.
For the first time in nine centuries, he felt completely helpless.
Chapter Ten
Memo: To All Harpies
Subject: Expense Accounts
Harpies can no longer charge unnecessary items. Accounting has stopped accepting receipts for BOTOX and lip plumper. They are not legitimate expenses Harpies do not need disguises. That is cheating the company. Only Hades can cheat the company. Punishment for those who persist in handing in these receipts will be one year of daily bikini waxes.
Remember, the unadorned harpy face is a company asset.
HADES THE UNDERSTANDING
The guests were waiting for their last meal of the night. Lucky for them, their cook was able to multitask. Five minutes after quitting the registration desk and morphing back into a kitchen witch, Katie had conjured up a variety of mouthwatering food smells. Daria s
niffed. No essence of singed cat hair. Ganymede must’ve escaped with his ice cream carton.
Everyone seemed happy and clueless. She expected that from the humans, but what about the nonhumans? Couldn’t they sense the planet-shifting events happening around them? Guess not.
Mel edged up to her. “Seen that brown dog around?” Even after a night spent chasing small, helpless animals, he was still primed to make Trouble’s life miserable.
She raised one brow. “And you think I’d tell you if I had?”
His smile was no smile at all. “You work here. It’s your job to keep me happy.”
“Not that happy.” She turned from him, and came face-to-face with Kal. “Hey, brother. Having fun?”
He scowled at her. Nope, no fun going on in his life. She sighed and braced herself for a lecture. Not that she didn’t deserve it; she did.
“I’ve decided on the wereleopard for you. She’s alone, she’s young, and she won’t put up too much of a fight. I did a background search. She has an arrest record, so that should satisfy your need for someone evil.” He should look more satisfied with his choice. “She’ll get you more points than a human would.”
“So why don’t you look thrilled?” Daria frowned as a ripple of unease touched her. What was it? Psychic vibes usually passed her by, but she’d felt something. And that something wasn’t good.
He shrugged and avoided her gaze. “Someone more powerful would’ve made an impact the judge couldn’t ignore. Too bad you couldn’t handle the vampire.”
“Well, I can’t,” she said defensively. “Where’s the leopard now?”
This time the ripple was a tsunami, a psychic punch in the gut. And the punch had a name. Declan. “Something’s wrong.”
“What?” Kal had been about to point out the leopard. “Find Ganymede. Send him outside. Delcan’s in trouble.” She ignored the questions in her brother’s eyes as she raced for the door.
Daria yanked it open and rushed outside. A quick scan told her Declan wasn’t in sight. Trying to quiet her pounding heart, she stopped and listened. The faint sound of stumbling footsteps guided her into the woods Thank the gods for her enhanced harpy hearing.
Within seconds that felt more like hours, she reached him. He didn’t even glance at her as he clutched his head between his hands.
“Declan, stop. What’s wrong?” She grabbed his arm. Shaking her off, he kept walking. She pushed past him and turned to face him. “Speak to me. What’s going on?”
His eyes had a glassy, unfocused look. The only thing she recognized in those eyes was agony.
“I’m not moving. Stop and I’ll find someone who can take away the pain.” Daria hoped she wasn’t making false promises.
He didn’t answer her, and he didn’t swerve to go around her. When he walked right into her, she fell backward. Jeez, he was strong. If she hadn’t rolled aside, he would’ve walked right over her.
It didn’t take any deep thinking to realize where he was headed. The church. This was about Fenrir. Scrambling to her feet, she followed him.
She’d already stripped off her clothes and become harpy by the time Ganymede materialized beside her. Startled, she yelped.
“I can move through time and space, babe. Get used to it. So what’s with the bloodsucker?” He glanced at Declan, who was still doggedly staggering down the path toward the church.
Later, when she wasn’t frantic with fear for Declan, she’d be suitably impressed by Ganymede’s power. “It’s like he’s in some kind of trance. He’s headed for the church and nothing I’ve done has stopped him.”
Ganymede didn’t waste time arguing or asking useless questions. He just nodded and headed after Declan. Daria moved him up a rung on her cats-who-get-it ladder.
He padded around Declan and stood in front of him, much as she’d done. “Hold up, Mackenzie. You’re going in the wrong direction.” Declan kept on walking.
Ganymede sighed. Suddenly a glowing wall appeared across the path. Declan slammed into it and stopped. Then he started trudging parallel to whatever was keeping him from Fenrir.
“Stubborn bastard. Crap, I just lost another candy bar.” Ganymede’s grumble echoed in the silent forest. “Pick him up and hold him still for me. The next step is tricky.” The wall disappeared.
She hoped she could do that. Harpies had tremendous lower body strength. They needed it to carry heavy prey long distances. And their wings gave them the power to travel at preternatural speed. But she remembered how easily Declan had foiled Eris’s attempt to carry him off.
It was tough getting into the air with all the trees. Her wings clipped branches as she rose over Declan. Then she dropped down, extended her talons, and grabbed the back of his shirt. Too bad he wasn’t wearing his leather coat. Leather wouldn’t rip like cloth.
Declan didn’t even look up at her. With an inarticulate growl of rage, he ripped his shirt open. And as buttons exploded like tiny missiles, Declan walked out of his shirt.
Startled, Daria let the ruined shirt dangle from her talons for a moment; then she dropped it to the ground and dived for Declan again. Aha, this time she had him. She hooked her talons into the back of his pants, then flapped her wings madly to hold them both in place.
He didn’t bother with the growl this time. Declan simply tore the front of his pants open, yanked them down, and stepped out of them. When his shoes got in his way, he clumsily discarded them too. No underwear to worry about.
Naked, he marched onward.
Folding her wings, she regrouped. In a calmer moment, she would have paused for silent contemplation of one of nature’s most beautiful creations. But she wasn’t calm. And there was nowhere else to grab him without sinking her talons into him. Nope, not going to do that.
She heard Ganymede’s muttered complaint beside her. Then the cat padded in Declan’s wake. Daria followed. Declan wasn’t moving too fast, so it was easy to keep up. Ganymede glanced up at her. “Looks like a compulsion. A strong one if it can work on our boy. He’s fighting it, though. Now, here’s what we’re gonna do. As soon as we get beside him, you pick me up. Then you put your hand on his shoulder. Don’t grab, because he’ll just throw you off. Got it?”
“Got it.” No argument from her. She was fresh out of ideas.
She reached Declan’s side, and for the first time really absorbed his signs of distress. Sweat sheened his body and he pushed his clenched fists against the sides of his head as though he could punch a hole in his skull to release the agony.
Daria put her hand over her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Crying? Absolutely not. Harpies never cried. Besides, what did she know about tears? She’d never experienced them before. For all she knew a blocked tear duct could be making her all watery. Or maybe an allergy to cat hair. She cast Ganymede an accusing stare.
And the heavy weight parked in her chest? Stress-induced. Mom had never told her how really tough all this test stuff could be. You are so into denial.
“Pick me up.” Ganymede’s voice was clipped and all business. This wasn’t Ganymede the food-obsessed.
Not sure what to expect, Daria picked up the cat and at the same time put her hand on Declan’s shoulder.
And everything ceased to be. When awareness returned she was in Sparkle’s room.
Glancing around, she met Sparkle’s astonished gaze. The queen of sex and sin was sitting on her red velvet couch. “Okay, you just impressed me to death, Ganymede.” Daria scanned the room and found the cat sitting at the foot of Sparkle’s bed. Declan sprawled across the mattress, every muscle taut as he strained against invisible bonds.
Since Sparkle seemed temporarily speechless, Daria addressed the cat. “Why’d you bring him to this room?” And someone please stop the pain.
“I could use a little help here.” Ganymede glared at Sparkle and her. “I’m getting tired of holding him down. You guys tie him to the bed so I can concentrate on blocking the pain and stopping the compulsion. Why here? Sparkle takes her bed seriously, don’t you, sw
eet-tart?”
“Always. I like to make love in a big, strong bed I can sink into.” She rose from the couch in one lithe motion and went to her closet. Taking down a short robe, she wordlessly handed it to Daria. “With someone not named Ganymede.”
From her tone of voice, Daria guessed she used the same words to describe her men. “Fine, so you like your bed. What about Declan?” Returning to human form, she wrapped the robe around her.
“The important thing about this bed is it’s a four-poster, and it’ll stand up to a beating. Sparkle’s already given it lots of test runs.” He looked at Sparkle. “Get something to tie him with, evil lady.”
“We need to take away the pain now.” Daria couldn’t help it. That was the only thing she could think about. Getting rid of the compulsion would come next.
“We?” Ganymede watched Sparkle root around in a bureau.
“Fine. You.” Who was quibbling about words? Sparkle came back with what looked like custom-made handcuffs. With their comfy, crimson padding, they sure weren’t police issue. “I’ll take his ankles and you do his wrists.” She handed Daria a set of cuffs.
Daria bit her lip as she dragged Declan’s arms into a position where she could cuff each of his wrists to a bedpost. Wow, it took all of her strength just to wrestle one arm into position. And even knowing it was for his own good, she felt a stab of guilt.
This was bad, and she wasn’t just thinking about Declan. Successful harpies never experienced pesky emotions connected with that totally useless human phenomenon called a conscience.
A harpy couldn’t operate under any kind of stupid constraints that tied her emotionally to other beings. Her loving relationships with Kal and Mom were unusual in the harpy world, probably because Dad wasn’t a harpy.
Just one more strike against her among other harpies.
She was going to make a lousy harpy, because she was feeling all kinds of banned emotions: worry, grief, and worst of all, caring. And right now she didn’t have the strength to push them away.
