by Holley Trent
Once, he’d made her entire body feel like that.
She brought his hand up to her lips to try to recreate the memory she had of long ago when he’d made her face tingle with just a touch. She’d thought she’d just been excited and that her rapid heart rate and hormones had caused the reaction, but perhaps it’d just been him all along.
“That was you?” She passed his hand across her lips and reflexively drew in a breath as the tingles surged and then receded. “What I was feeling then? It’s like … I feel like I’m glowing. Am I glowing?”
“Nah, cōcohtōn. That’s just magic.”
“Just?” She pressed his hand to her cheek and then down her jaw and neck. The only thing that had ever come close making her feel the same sensation of euphoria were the four shots of liquor she’d carelessly downed at the bar’s last Christmas party. Unlike with the alcohol, however, she didn’t think touching him would make her wake up hungover with her face pressed to the cool bathroom floor.
“Mm-hmm. Nothin’ special.”
“Cōcohtōn … you called me that once.”
“More than once, probably.”
“What does that word mean?”
“It’s a little dove. You always remind me of one with the way you move.”
“Fluttery?”
“No, like you could take flight without trying. You walk so gentle, like you think making a little noise and taking up some space will offend people.”
“I don’t really do that, do I? I mean, I’m all up in your personal space right now and I don’t think I’m being especially uptight.”
“That’s magic.”
“Oh. Maybe that’s the answer to everything.”
“No, but having magic sure as shit doesn’t hurt, sometimes.” He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and guided her face toward his, and she let him do all the work of kissing. Just as sweet as she remembered, but with the perfect mix of urgency and possession—like her lips had been made specifically for him and he was the expert at bending them to his will.
She hadn’t thought she could get any closer, but there she was, shifting ever more onto his lap from the tug of his fist around her borrowed bathrobe’s ties, and she had to grab his shoulders so as not to tip over.
Straddling him, she had better access to the coffee-flavored lips and could rake her fingers through his soft, thick hair to satisfy her craving for touch stimulus, but that position also had the side effect of reminding her of how shameless he was about the things his body did when she got too close.
“Shit, Dee.” He pressed his hands to her hips and ground her down over the hard shaft beneath her body.
“I know. I shouldn’t touch you.” She drew back from his lips to sigh, but halted her exhalation at the sight of a solid thing in her periphery that hadn’t been there before.
She turned her head slowly to the right and saw the beach bum standing there in the sunroom with his arms crossed, tapping the toe of his flip-flop impatiently.
“The fuck?” Tito said.
The stranger—the very one who’d thrown her out of the way of a certain SUV on the day of her arrival—groaned and threw up his hands. “I’ve been trying to be discreet. That’s my job, you know? I’ve been waiting all this time for you to tell her what you were going to do about your cousin, ’cause she asked like … ” He sputtered his lips and rolled his eyes wildly. “Oh, six hours ago.”
“Tito, who is that?” December asked. “Did he just pop in?” She didn’t think she’d been that distracted.
He grunted and shifted her somewhat indiscreetly off his erection, though not so far that anyone else would have seen the evidence of it. “If I had to guess, I’d say that’s Cruz’s imaginary friend.”
December turned slowly to look at the man. “You mean … ”
“The angel with the guitar? Man, I figured he’d be newer to the gig. This guy’s probably been dead thirty years. Either that, or he’s wearing his daddy’s concert T-shirt.”
Mikey wagged a finger at Tito. “I didn’t die, brah. I simply passed into a different state of being.”
“At the hands of what, a ten-foot wave?”
“Nah. Close, though. Overturned speedboat. My brother felt guilty afterward, I guess.” He shrugged. “He drives like a granny now.”
“I’m so confused.” An ache was starting to settle behind December’s eyes, so she closed them and pressed her face against Tito’s shoulder.
Tito rubbed her back. “Usually, the guys who have the job he has haven’t been dead that long. It’s an entry-level gig.”
“Actually, like, I’m a supervisor, okay? With circumstances being what they are, Cruz is my only kiddo nowadays. I spend the rest of my time doing performance reviews. Woo-hoo, bureaucracy.”
December wriggled off Tito’s lap and tightened her robe at the neck. “So, let me get this straight. You follow me and Cruz around?”
“Usually just Cruz, and only when you’re not home. Normally, you’d never know I was around and I wouldn’t show myself to you like this, but extenuating circumstances and such.” He added in a mumble, “That guy with the big freakin’ sword already saw me. A guy like Tarik’s got the power of, like, a hundred of me.”
“Why?”
Mikey blinked dumbly. “Why what? Why do I suck compared to Tarik the Dude-Slayer?”
December sighed. “No, why is she your … assignment, is it? Is that what you call her, an assignment? Why does she have one when …” She looked briefly to Tito. “His son probably didn’t? I’m guessing?”
Tito closed his eyes.
Mikey shrugged. “That information is above my clearance level. If Tarik hadn’t left the party, he would certain have access to those kind of details.”
“Are you supposed to follow her around forever?”
“Mmm, yeah. Basically forever.” He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Or until I get promoted, whichever comes first. Then again, any promotion I get would probably keep me in close proximity to her. She’s a Category B charge. That’s, like, VIP. Their teams tend to be pretty stable.”
“Teams,” December said flatly.
“Yeah, you know. Get one of those scary fallen ones to explain all this junk to you if you can pull the words out of them.”
“When you say forever, you mean—”
“Your kid’s an immortal,” Mikey said. “I mean, kinda. She can’t die from natural causes, and pretty much every entity can be killed if you find their Achilles’ heel, but she’s pretty much golden. That’s why I was waiting around for this dude to lay out his plan for vanquishing his cousin because he to-o-o-otally qualifies as an Achilles’ heel. I’m not actually a voyeur.” He rolled his gaze to the ceiling again. “Usually.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Demigod,” Mikey said cheerily.
Mrs. Perez appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and sunroom, clutching a book and furrowing her brow. “I sensed the arrival of someone on the premises.”
“Yikes, Big Mama arriveth. I’ll just … ” Mikey pushed away from the wall and scrambled to the door. “Go chat with Cruz. Take your time!” he called over his shoulder.
December had to force herself to unclench her teeth so she didn’t end up dislodging the temporary crown she hadn’t had a chance to get back to the dentist to have swapped out. She took a deep breath and slowly twined her fingers together.
She was officially in the twilight zone, and she refused to be convinced otherwise.
She had a demigod as a baby daddy, Were-cougars as family friends, an angel in her daughter’s invisible entourage, and apparently, her child was immortal like the Highlander.
Another strained titter escaped her lungs.
And some freak wants to kill me.
Her titter turned into an outright laugh that had her shoulders shaking and eyes watering.
She was on the brink of a nervous breakdown, and doubted nothing, short of a hard thump to the head, would stop it.
“I want to hear this plan of yours, too, Tito,” she said when she could catch a breath. “Tell me how we’re gonna stop this guy from ever getting close to Cruz.”
“That’s not for you to worry about. I’ll take care of him.”
“Like hell I’m not going to worry. Don’t you dare cut me out of any scheme you have in mind. This is my daughter we’re talking about.”
“Our daughter, and guess what? I’m immortal, too. You’re not.”
Scoffing, she rubbed her sternum again. “Yeah. I’m definitely the very human outlier here.”
“Dee,” he said softly. “We can’t put you at risk. That’s why you have to stay here.”
In spite of her earnest efforts to mind her dental work, December started grinding her teeth again. “Oh. I have to, huh?”
He shrugged.
She may have been just human and she may not have had as many years to play with as the others in the house, but she’d been Cruz’s mom for five years. Like hell if she was going to sit on the sidelines of ensuring her safety.
He’ll learn soon enough.
chapter TWELVE
“Shit.” At the sight of December hustling into Ma’s kitchen, Tito massaged the bridge of his nose and let go of Tamatsu’s arm.
“Nice distraction effort there, Tito, giving me that legend book to read. Really fascinating, your mother’s life. You know, I may be human, but my ears work just fine. I heard you say teleport. Where are you going?” She poked his sternum and growled softly before he could respond. “No lies.”
He let out a breath. “To have a little chat with my uncle about a certain homicidal smudge on the family tree.”
“So, you and the angel were just going to leave without telling me?”
“That was the plan.”
“Ah.” Nodding decisively, she looped her arm around Tamatsu’s. “Am I doing this right, or is there some ritual we need to do first? I’m the novice here.”
Tamatsu pushed up an eyebrow.
“Well, am I?” she asked.
Slowly, he nodded.
“Well, good.” She leaned forward and looked at Tito. “Where, precisely, are we going? Will we be back in time for me to put Cruz to bed?”
“You serious?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shit, woman.”
“That’s not an answer to either of my questions.”
He sucked in some air and let it out in a dry laugh. “Uh, okay. Right. We’re going to Spain, and probably.”
“Spain.” She snorted. “Okay, sure, because magic, right? Well, let’s go.”
Tamatsu gave Tito an eloquent look.
Tito ground his teeth and put an arm around the angel’s free one. If Dee wanted to go on an adventure and see just how fucking messy being attached to him was, so be it. “All right, T. Let’s go.”
On the rare occasion Tito allowed Ma or one of the angels to teleport him anywhere, he always felt like the ground had opened up beneath him and, for a few exhilarating moments, that he was falling blind. He couldn’t imagine what December was feeling, but could surmise, from her bloodcurdling shriek in the void, that the trip wasn’t a joyride for her.
Tamatsu set them on soft, loamy soil in a vineyard, shadowed already by dusk, and promptly sat cross-legged in front of a mature grapevine.
December pointed up, then down, muttering, “Ground’s that way?” and swayed precipitously.
Tito grabbed her arm. “Yep. Ground’s that way. Don’t go that way, ’kay? I like your face. Don’t want you to smash it.”
She looked up at him with crossed eyes and he had to clamp his teeth together to keep the laugh in.
Poor cōcohtōn.
She closed her eyes, shook her head hard, and gripped his arm with both hands. “Where are we?” she stage whispered.
“In what’s supposedly my uncle’s vineyard, according to Ma,” he whispered back, hoarsely. “In Spain.”
“Oh.” She opened her eyes and blinked several times. One of her pupils was way larger than the other, but her gaze seemed straight enough. “What’d you have to promise Tamatsu to get him to violently hurl us here, hmm? The blood of your firstborn daughter?” She narrowed her eyes. “If so, he can’t have it.”
He snorted. She was being a little silly, but he suspected he’d sober up once her blood pressure retreated to a healthful level. He got her moving toward the little cottage nearby. “He hasn’t told me what he wants yet. I’m sure it’ll be interesting. Also, that wasn’t violent, as far as teleporting goes.”
“Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.” She peeled her phone out of her pocket and, closing one eye, peered at the screen. “Oh my goodness, this map says we’re in Spain.”
“Dee, I just told you that. You’ll believe your phone and not me?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, our track record isn’t the greatest. Technology is trustworthy for the most part. People aren’t.”
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“No, you’ve just withheld the truth by withholding yourself from me.”
“I’m here now.”
“And so am I.” She cocked her chin up at him as if daring him to counter.
He didn’t. He didn’t want to argue with her—he did too much of that already with the other adult woman in his life. “For fuck’s sake, Dee. You shouldn’t have come.” He pressed his hand to the small of her back and guided her toward the front door of the ramshackle cottage. “Being associated with characters like him and Ma is dangerous.”
“Well, too late with your mother. Cruz is happily with her right now, and I can’t really undo that relationship now that it’s started. I doubt either would let me if I tried, and Cruz doesn’t even know who she is to her.”
“Yeah. They’re probably not gonna let you split them up,” Tito groused. Especially not Ma. She’d been invested from the moment of Cruz’s conception. Cruz seemed especially taken with the taciturn old goddess, too, for reasons Tito couldn’t even begin to surmise.
“In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess,” she said. “I’m already up to my elbows in the muck, so I might as well dig a little further.”
“You can’t seriously mean that.”
She poised her fist in front of the weathered wooden door and cut Tito a look. “You don’t want to back out, do you? I’m supposed to be the ’fraidy-cat, not you.”
“I should ask you the same thing. It’s not me I’m worried about.”
She tutted, then knocked. “You let me worry about me.”
“That’s not the way being my mate works. I’m wired to worry about you, which is why I didn’t want you to come.”
“You said that word again—mate. What does that mean in the context you’re using it in?”
“Too much to explain while standing on this damn doormat.”
“That’s a cop-out. There you go withholding information again. You have to—”
The door swung open with a loud, stubborn creak, and she shut her mouth.
“Come in, Yaotl,” Uncle said. “I figured you’d come by, eventually. Welcome.”
He retreated into the small house, his bare feet softly slapping the floor as he went.
December gave Tito a speculative look.
“What?”
“So, he knows why you’re here?”
“He knows his kid has a penchant for raising hell.”
“So, he’s like the dad who assumes that any phone call from the school is the principal telling him what naughty thing his son did that day.”
“Yep.” Tito gestured toward the door. “After you. Go ahead. He won’t hurt you. Part of the reason we’re in the mess we’re in is because he won’t hurt anyone.”
“You’d think that trait would be a good one.” She stepped across the threshold, pausing just inside the doorway and turning to look back at him.
“I’m coming.” He gestured to Tamatsu to let him know they might be a while.
The angel’s only response
was a delayed blink. Tito never expected very clear communication from the man, but he did wish that every now and then he’d at least write shit down rather than making folks guess what he was thinking.
Tito stepped into the cottage and had closed the door almost all the way when his uncle called out, “Leave the door open so that the cat can come and go.”
December leaned in close and whispered, “He doesn’t mean, like, big, shapeshifter cat, does he?”
“I doubt it. He avoids folks with magic of any sort. The cat’s probably just a mouser.”
“I’m in the kitchen,” Uncle said. “Come. Try the wine. I think it turned out okay, but maybe my tongue’s no good.”
Tito guided December forward by the small of her back. She seemed to need the impetus to keep moving, but he didn’t blame her. In fact, he thought she was being pretty brave, seeing as how she had no idea what she was walking into.
Uncle stood at the island in the middle of the airy room, bent over a wooden cutting board slicing off portions of salami. He was casually dressed in a T-shirt that had a couple of moth holes on the sleeves and faded cargo shorts that sagged on his thin frame. Tito’s childhood memories of the man had him painted as hale and robust—tall and strong, and so damned noble looking. He’d had a princely gait and a serene countenance in contrast to Ma’s fierier disposition. They made a very unusual pair of twins. Twin gods generally worked in harmony, in service to humankind.
Ma and Uncle served no one—at least, not anymore. He’d had that kid. Things had gone south after that.
“Who’s this?” Uncle asked, glancing up from the board.
“This is December. She’s my mate.”
December tugged at the hem of Tito’s shirt. “I thought we were going to talk about that.”
“We will. I promise.” Didn’t really matter if they did, though. She’d still be his mate whether she wanted him or not. He, on the other hand, would never have another when she left him. The lack of automatic reciprocity was the one part of the Cougar male’s curse that he bore like all the rest.
