Storm Gods

by G. Bailey

  Peyton lifts his head and stares at Mads like he’s seeing her for the first time. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is opening and closing, but no sound comes out. “Hey,” Mads says quietly, raising a tentative hand to him.

  “Hey,” he echoes, sounding like he can’t quite believe his eyes.

  “Karma…woke me up,” Mads explains, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s not all back yet, but I remember a lot of it. I remember you.”

  Peyton looks like a man in a dream as he slowly gets to his feet, moving across the room unsteadily and lifting a hand to brush Mads’s shoulder. “It’s really you?” he asks quietly.

  I see a flash of the old Mads then when she grins up at him and replies, “You tell me.” Then she pulls him down into a kiss that seems to catch him off guard, wrapping her arms around his neck while Peyton eagerly reciprocates. They stay like that for a long time, to the point where it might be awkward, but I can’t bring myself to make any sarcastic comments. Seeing them happy together again is worth the discomfort. Storm is watching the exchange too, and I could swear I see the corner of his mouth twitch up when his violet eyes meet mine. I wink at him, making him break into a smile big enough to send warm fuzzies up and down my spine.

  Finally, Peyton pulls away, taking Mads’s hands in his own as he turns to me. “I can’t believe you did it, sis,” he says. “Remind me never to underestimate you again.”

  I snort and wave him off. “Like that’s ever going to happen, Pey.”

  “Is that Madison we hear in there?” comes Hugo’s booming voice, and I turn to see him and Damien making their way in from the dining room.

  “Damn right, it is,” Peyton replies, and I watch as my other brothers swarm around the happy couple, buzzing with relief and excitement. Mum follows soon after, Ruby trailing behind her, and I’m left to stand back and watch the reunion with a contented smile on my face. I’m so distracted that I don’t even realize Storm has approached me until he slips his hand into mine, his thumb brushing gently over my palm.

  I look up at him, and he meets my eyes. “You did well, little one,” he tells me.

  “I did what I had to,” I reply simply. It’s the truth, and right now, it’s all that needs to be said.

  There’s a long moment of silence, and then he glances in the direction of the stairs; realising he probably wants to talk, I allow him to lead me away from the celebrating crowd. They’re going to have a lot to catch up on. There will be time for me to talk to my friend after she’s readjusted to her life here. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now, having had her memories taken away and then shoved back in like it’s some kind of game. She and Peyton should be able to have their time together, I reason, and besides, it’s not like I’m going anywhere…

  As much as, on some level, I might want to.

  If Storm picks up on my ruminations, he doesn’t give me any indication. He’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, but he can be difficult to read if he wants to be; I don’t know if he even realises how caught up in his own thoughts he can get sometimes. I guess we’re two of a kind in that regard. It looks like he has something on his mind, but I know better than to press him on it. He’ll talk to me if he wants to.

  “Watch the painting,” I warn him as we reach the top of the stairs.

  “It’s all right,” Storm replies, squeezing my hand. “I already learned that lesson the hard way.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him teasingly. “Are you telling me the higher god of weather got caught off guard by an enchanted painting?”

  Storm gives me a haughty frown, but there’s a gleam in his violet eyes that tells me he’s teasing. Shit, I missed that look. “Your family has quite the…collection of artifacts,” he observes noncommittally. “It’s impressive.”

  “You were in jail for four hundred years,” I remind him. “You probably think that cars and cell phone cameras are impressive.”

  “We had access to the news in there, you know,” Storm replies defensively. “I mean, not all of it, but… The important stuff always had a way of getting through to us. Blame it on the fact that there were always new people being brought in.”

  “I still can’t imagine spending all that time in there,” I confess as we approach my room, blissfully not being attacked by the painting this time. Maybe it’s finally learning that higher gods aren’t to be trifled with? “To watch the whole world evolving around you, but not be able to take part in it… It must have been incredibly lonely.”

  “It was,” Storm replies, not sugarcoating it. “There were times when all I wanted to do was be outside again. Times I would have sold my soul just for a chance to take a breath of fresh air or put my feet in a stream.” He shakes his head as I pull open the door to my room, and he has to duck a little so as not to bump into the doorframe. Storm is a tall guy. “Sometimes I wasn’t even sure if I would even…if I would even make it. Part of me wanted to give up then and there, just to make the isolation stop.” He shrugs his broad shoulders, giving me a melancholy smile. “Immortality has its downsides, you know.”

  “So I’m learning,” I admit, “again and again and again.” I sigh, dropping onto my bed, feeling suddenly, overwhelmingly tired. “This whole thing feels like one long nightmare,” I confess, looking up at him. “It’s like one thing ends and another starts, except every time is worse than the last.” I clench my hands into fists and then relax them, my eyes wandering over the intricate vine patterns that now run up my arms. “Was this what it was like for you back there?”

  Storm looks thoughtful, giving me a slow nod before sitting down on the bed next to me. I feel almost ridiculous, sitting here with him in my childhood bedroom, a holdover from a time when everything felt easy and the stakes were never too high. Seeing this all-powerful being in contrast to the innocence of my past feels strange, somehow…foreign. Yet Storm’s expression isn’t unkind, and as he looks around, I could swear I almost see a hint of admiration on his face. “It was,” he replies finally, turning to look at me. “You think there’s only so much you can take, and the next thing you know, something else is happening. Something worse.” He reaches a hand up and brushes the backs of his knuckles over my cheek. His touch is reverent, almost worshipful, and it’s intimidating and alluring all at the same time. I feel a fresh swarm of butterflies in my stomach at the feeling of his warm skin against mine, and have to resist the urge to lean into his touch.

  “How did you get through it?” I ask him, almost afraid to know the answer. Storm is stronger than I am, bolder than I am, more decisive than I am. He was raised as a higher god, with the responsibilities to match. His life has been nothing but suffering and pain at the hands of his conniving relatives. He has the stomach for this life, and the willpower to push forward, even when the world feels like it’s collapsing all around him.

  I don’t have that. I’m weak.

  “I found you,” Storm replies huskily, his voice low and heady. Startled, I meet his purple gaze, pointedly aware of the fact that his hand is still on my face, that our bodies are within inches of each other. “Before I met you,” he says carefully, “I thought that the soft part of me, the…the gentle part, had died. A long time ago. It’s a necessary evil when you’ve lived through the things I have. It’s the way things have to be—you protect what’s yours, you do what you have to do, and you don’t let anyone too close.” Storm takes a ragged breath, a lock of black hair falling into his face as he drops his head. I resist the urge to reach out and brush it out of the way, too entranced by his words to make myself move. “But then…you showed up. You, with your fire, and your energy, and your determination…” He shakes his head, meeting my eyes once more. “Your light. That’s what it was, Karma. It was like you brought light back into my life when I had been living in darkness for so long.”

  I can feel my heart pounding in my ears, adrenaline rushing through me in a cold wave as the intensity of what Storm is saying hits home. “You…really think that?” I ask him
quietly.

  Storm nods slowly, the look on his face brooking no argument. “When I first sent you to retrieve that crystal,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. Many don’t. And the ones that do…aren’t like you.” He runs his hand down my arm until it meets my own, his fingers intertwining with mine. “You were special. I think I knew that from the minute I first saw you. But the prison makes people cold. That’s what the adopted higher gods do: they take away our humanity. So when you came back out of that river, holding that crystal and looking like you were ready to take on the world in order to get out of there…” Storm runs a hand through his hair, looking like words are failing him. “That was when I knew I was in trouble.”

  I give him a dry laugh, looking down at my lap and realising that my hands are shaking. Storm tightens his grip on me the slightest bit, his big hands steadying mine. “You must not have great taste in women, then,” I joke, unsure what to do with the praise.

  Storm shakes his head grimly. “Hardly,” he says in that low voice, taking my chin in his free hand and turning me to look at him. The affection in his eyes is enough to make my stomach turn to mush. “I love you, Karma,” he tells me, his thumb brushing gently over my bottom lip. “And when this is over, I want to be with you.”

  In spite of the rush of warmth that I feel, the overwhelming desire to tell him yes, I can also feel something coiling up in the pit of my stomach, a resistance that I’ve become familiar with over the past few days. My face falls, and I can feel my shoulders tense up even in spite of myself. “Killian and Seth,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

  It’s all that needs to be said. Storm stays still for a long time, still watching me ardently. “I’ve…thought about them,” he admits after a long moment. “And I’ve thought about you. I…” He fidgets, looking suddenly self-conscious. “I realise I haven’t exactly made the best case for myself in this regard,” he says stiffly. “I haven’t been kind to them. Hell, I’ve hurt them.” He licks his lips, clearly unsure of himself, so I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “What I didn’t realise was that when I hurt them, I was hurting you, too,” he tells me quietly.

  “Storm…,” I say, hardly daring to believe it. “Are you saying…?”

  The weather god clears his throat. “I’m not saying it will be easy,” he admits. “And it will take…time. But the only thing I hate more than the idea of sharing you, Karma, is the idea of bringing you pain. So if that means letting them love you the way I do…” He takes a deep breath. “I’m willing to try.”

  I swear, you can hear my heart melting. “Storm,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around his neck, “I love you too.”

  That seems to do it for him, as almost instantly he’s rolling me over, pushing me back on the bed as he peppers me with frantic kisses. I bask in his touch, the catharsis a hundred times more spectacular than I could have ever expected, and soon we’re a mess of pawing hands and lips, murmuring things to each other as we come undone in each other’s arms. Somehow he gets my clothes off, and I help him with his, even as his hands are on my breasts, on my hips, easing down to that place between my thighs and coaxing sounds out of me that I didn’t even know I was capable of. He takes his time with it, nudging my legs apart with his thigh as he allows his fingers to continue their work, sending waves of pleasure through my body with even the slightest movement. I’m like clay in his hands, coming undone at his touch, and from the sounds the storm god is making, he’s feeling similarly.

  I buck my hips instinctively into Storm’s hand as he gradually increases his pace, the thumb on my clit working in tight circles while he palms my breast with his free hand, his purple eyes boring into me. His lips muffle my desperate cry as my orgasm hits me full force, leaving me trembling in his arms as he shelters me with his muscular body.

  “I love you,” I tell him again once I’m finally able to articulate, and that seems to set him off.

  Storm growls my name and settles between my legs, a hand on my thigh as he pushes into me with a long stroke that leaves me gasping. He gives me some time to adjust before he starts to move, his mouth pressed to my neck while I tangle my hands in his hair. His pace is quick and intense, every shift of his hips feeling like it’s lighting me on fire as he pulls my body against his. I can already feel another orgasm on the heels of my last one, and before long I’m seeing stars, moaning breathlessly against his lips as he makes love to me like there’s no tomorrow. I come again moments before he does, his hips stuttering as he finishes inside me and buries his face in my shoulder while we catch our breaths. Dazed, I run my hands through his hair as I stare up at the ceiling, for once without words.

  I shiver when he pulls out of me, collapsing next to me on the bed and allowing me to nuzzle my face into his chest. “Please don’t go,” I implore him when I feel him move. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “You’re not alone, Karma,” Storm murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head while his hands run absently up and down my back. “You never were.”

  Chapter 13

  “We need to talk,” dad announces that evening as we sit down around the dinner table. He’s addressing all of us, and I can tell by the tone of his voice that he means business. Hugo and Damien quiet down at their end of the table, while Peyton puts a comforting arm around Mads’s shoulders, squeezing her tightly once before letting her go. I’m seated between Storm and Killian, with Seth in the spot across from me; the guys’ proximity gives me more strength than I thought possible. In the aftermath of my time with Storm, it seems like some of the tension has eased up between them, and I have to give the weather god credit for the effort he’s clearly putting into this. It’s heartwarming, and even if they haven’t gone to being best friends overnight, there’s an air of tentative compromise between the three of them that I recognise without them needing to say anything. Granted, it’s only been a day, but still…progress is progress.

  “Go ahead, honey,” mum says, setting her silverware aside to look at dad.

  “I’m not all that familiar with…you know, magic,” he says, making a vague gesture towards the assembled supernatural beings. “It’s a little weird being the only human here, actually.” He grins self-deprecatingly. “But that’s not the point. The point is, sooner or later we’re going to have to decide what to do. About this Neritous situation.”

  It’s something I’ve thought about, myself. We’ve only been here a few days, but I’m already starting to get anxious, and I can tell I’m not the only one. We’re all waiting for the next development, the next catastrophe, and the air of tension that’s permeated the house hasn’t managed to dissipate entirely. It’s yet another reminder of the fact that there are other people involved in this.

  Seth clears his throat. “Mr. Kismet has a point,” he agrees, still sounding absurdly formal, but I know better than to expect any different. It’s charming in its own way. “It would be naive to expect him to leave us alone, especially when we’re camping out at your childhood home, Karma. We’re like sitting ducks in here.”

  “Not exactly,” mum puts in. “I’ve put anti-magic wards on all the doors. Nothing super fancy, but it’s the best we can afford. The barrier should keep all but the most powerful gods away from the house.”

  “Unluckily for us,” I reply grimly, “Neritous is one of the most powerful gods. And Seth is right. As much as I hate to say it, they’re going to have ways of tracking us down sooner or later.” One glance at Killian, who gives me a curt nod, is enough to tell me I’m right. The justice twins weren’t even high ranking in the godly hierarchy when they came after me, and they were still able to track me down in no time flat. It would be naive to think we’re out of the woods, and it makes me go crazy with worry.

  “If I may,” Storm speaks up, resting his hands on the table, “I think it would be prudent to consider all our options. We need to pick our priority. Whether that’s hunting Neritous down or getting as far away as possible, we can’t stay here much longer.”
His eyes meet Seth’s, and he nods at the justice twin in silent support of what he said earlier. Am I fucking dreaming, or are they actually getting along?

  “There’s also the question of Mads,” Peyton pipes up. “She needs—”

  “I can speak for myself,” Mads interjects teasingly, giving him a playful nudge with her elbow. “I’d like to see about getting rid of these powers, if we can. And if not…” She takes a shaky breath. “Then I guess I’m going to have to learn to use them. Really use them, I mean, not just channel them like I did the day that I…” She clears her throat, dropping her gaze. “The day that I fought you, Karma.”

  “You weren’t yourself,” I remind her and then glance over at Ruby, who is picking at her food on the other side of the table. “We can’t forget about the little one, either. Jade’s name needs to be cleared.”

  “So we have a lot of loose ends and no idea where to start,” huffs Damien, crossing his arms. “Sounds about right, actually.”

  Hugo elbows him. “You’re supposed to be the optimistic one, here.”

  Damien snorts and waves him off. “So what do we do?”

  “I can reach out to some of my contacts,” Seth suggests, leaning back in his chair. “No guarantees, especially now, though. I’m not sure how many of them will be on our side, or if Neritous has already poisoned them against me, but it’s worth a shot. In the meantime, we need to figure out a way of getting back to England without drawing attention to ourselves.”

  “Easier said than done,” Killian remarks dryly, “and that’s without the talking goat following us.”

  “I’ll look into it,” mum promises. “But no more shop talk at the table, guys. Neritous might have ruined our lives, but I’m not about to let him ruin dinner hour, too.”

  I guess I should know by now that nothing is ever as easy as it seems when you’re making a plan. I should probably have figured out, as well, that it’s always when you start getting comfortable that something horrible happens. That’s been the story of my life these past weeks, and I was an idiot to ever get complacent. Yet, somehow, I manage to sleep well that night, between the justice twins, secure in the knowledge that no matter what else happens, the trio is working out their differences.