Down the line it went, with only two votes of dissent. Ares, of course, and, of all people, Loki. “I'm not opposing the idea,” the trickster said, “but I would rather have them spend some time here without voting rights before we give them an equal say. They're young, compared to us."
"I agree. Everyone—let's vote on Loki's suggestion."
This time it was ‘ayes’ all around, except for Ares, who seemed to oppose anything any of the others suggested just on principle. “Good. I'll inform them of the next meeting. They can attend or not, as they choose, but if they don't, they will immediately be disqualified."
"I'd like to include Renee.” This announcement by Loki send a shockwave through the group.
"A vampire? I don't know about that,” Morrigan said, shaking her head.
"My vampire,” Loki said waspishly. “And she's as immortal as we are."
"But even younger than Carth or Feral,” Shea pointed out. “I'm reluctant to agree to this, even though I like her personally. She's still not even as old as a single mortal lifetime."
"Experience doesn't necessarily bring wisdom,” Loki reminded him. “Look at Ares."
Shea snorted. “Point. But, frankly, the idea gives me pause more because of her talents than her age. I'm not sure we need another telepath amongst us, especially one who doesn't share our history."
Bladesworth frowned. “I hadn't considered that,” he said, “but I, for one, have no objection on that account—she's more powerful than I am, but I've seen no evidence that she's likely to abuse that power. Quite the opposite, actually."
They voted on this one and came down to a fifty-fifty split until Athena, with apparent misgivings, gave it a ‘yes’ vote.
"I submit that we include Jasmine,” Bast said, with a mysterious smile.
"What? This is only your first time in council!” Ares half rose from his seat, glaring down the table at her. “You have no right to submit anyone, much less a mortal!"
"Ares, you really need to chill,” Stormchild murmured. “If you were mortal, you'd probably give yourself a stroke or something."
"Shut up, you simpleton,” the big immortal growled in his general direction. “If you thought about anything but keeping your dick happy, you'd realize the danger in all these proposed changes. For several thousand years it was just us ... now they want to let in all manner of riff-raff."
"Are you calling my wife ‘riff-raff'?” Loki's tone grew deceptively calm as uncharacteristic ire boiled up in his gaze. “I'd suggest you keep a civil tongue in your mouth, war-god."
"What are you going to do about it, Trickster? Talk me to death?"
Loki's thin, pale lips slowly curved into a nasty looking smile. “You want to try me, Ares? I guarantee you won't like the result."
"Big talk, coyote boy. Can you back it up?"
"Ares!” Athena's voice cracked like a whip. “Are you going to spend all afternoon picking fights?"
"If I have to,” he replied. “None of you realize how dangerous this is ... to have our values diluted by aliens and jumped-up mortals? It's just wrong. And dangerous."
"You keep saying dangerous,” Shea observed dryly, “but offer no proof as to what you mean."
"Isn't it obvious? Oh—maybe not to you. You love the mortals, you, alone among us, strive to be more like them rather than less. It's sickening to watch."
Shea closed his eyes and took a deep breath, obviously trying to hold onto his temper. “Ares, you are seriously starting to tick me off. I'm tempted to submit a measure to boot you from the council. I think you're more interested in disrupting than participating."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
"Not a good precedent,” Athena said, shaking her head. “We've always held these sessions as open to any immortal who wanted to join."
"I'm beginning to question the wisdom of that,” Shea shot back. “Ares has yet to do anything but bitch, moan, whine, and insult the rest of us."
"This isn't a council,” Ares said, “it's a rubber stamp committee. You all are too busy kissing one another's asses to realize how you're endangering all of us."
"What?” Morrigan's gaze turned to pure ice as a distinct chill spread through the room. “Fuck this. I need a drink.” She got up and left.
"See what I mean?” Shea asked the others, grimacing. “He's too big an asshole to sit on the council."
"I'm taking Thanatos's place,” the war god replied, undaunted.
"Not very well, I must say.” Bladesworth pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the room, shaking his head.
"Well, at least I blocked your chances of including your plaything on the council,” Ares told Shea smugly.
Plaything? Jaz felt her jaw clench. Is he saying what I think he's saying? Why that son of a—. Thoughts of waiting vanished as anger surged through her. She shot to her feet, the chair crashing to the floor behind her. She dropped the sight shield at the same time she summoned her two swords from their dimension pockets. Rather than calling them to hand, however, she sent them lancing toward Ares, stopping them mere inches from his face, where they hovered like predatory birds waiting for a chance to strike.
He froze, recognizing crystal weapons for what they were.
"Jasmine! How did you—did you transit in here just now, or were you spying on us?” Athena looked scandalized, an expression that might have sent Jaz into a fit of giggles if she hadn't been so pissed.
"In a minute, Athena,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I need to finish my conversation with this jackass here.” She waggled her fingers and the two blades shifted, as if to reposition themselves for a better angle at his eyes. “I was willing to overlook some of the things you said today, but talking that way about Deryk—and our relationship—is not one of those things."
Ares didn't back away from the hovering weapons, but sweat beaded visibly on his forehead.
Bast let out a small trill of pleasure, half laugh, half something else more akin to a feline purr than any sound a human might make. “Well, it looks like you've run full tilt into a fight you can't win, Ares. How's it feel?"
Ares didn't respond. In fact, he had nothing at all to say.
"Staring death in the face makes you re-evaluate things, doesn't it?” Jaz asked him with false cheeriness. “I want to petition to join this council, Athena."
The Amazon shook her head. “It's for immortals only."
"I'm eligible. Avatar's first shot on me was an arrow through my chest. He thought he was dealing with a mortal, ‘cuz that's what you told him I was. A mage and a parahuman, but mortal. You were both wrong. That mistake killed him, and it's about to kill this asshole.” She strode around the table, noting with some satisfaction that the blades never wavered.
"I don't understand. How did you...” She let her voice trail off, staring at Jaz in cautious wonder. “It explains so much."
"Doesn't it? If you ask me, Athena—and I realize you haven't—you immortals have become far too complacent. You can't afford that luxury anymore. I could easily have cut a bloody swath through your ranks before you even had an inkling of what you were dealing with."
"You have crystal weapons,” Shea pointed out, apparently more amused than annoyed by her sudden appearance and revelation. “Not many possible enemies have that advantage."
Jaz shook her head. “That may be true, but imagine what a vamp or lycanthrope could do if he got hold of one. Your security is non-existent. You guys may be tough, but you're not completely invulnerable. Well, maybe except for you, Deryk."
His face shifted to a lopsided grin. “I think you've cowed him,” he said, with a glance at Ares. “Doubt it'll help, though. He's pretty much beyond redemption."
"Leave me the hell alone, Ares. If you screw with me—if you screw with any of my people—I'll gut you like a fish. Am I clear?"
His malevolent glare spoke volumes, though he said nothing out loud. Jaz had the sudden urge to drive the weapons home but resisted the temptation. He d
idn't deserve to die for being an insufferable prick. He just deserved to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end.
She motioned with her hand, withdrawing the weapons and sending them back to their pocket dimensions. She almost expected Ares to lunge out of his chair at her, but the big immortal just eyed her suspiciously and crept sideways out of his chair. “Crazy bitch,” he mumbled, edging his way toward the door.
"Yep,” she replied cheerfully. “That's me. Ms. Crazy bitch to you."
Athena and Shea were both looking at her with odd expressions while Loki chortled.
"What?” she snapped waspishly.
"Never thought we'd see Ares put in his place,” Shea chuckled. “That was worth the price of admission."
"You'd better watch your back,” Athena remarked, pushing herself to her feet. “I think that's about it for this meeting,” she added. “I, for one, could use a beer."
"I could use several,” Hermes said, heading for the doorway. “If you're immortal, Jaz, you have my vote. We could use the new blood."
"Athena's right,” Bast said to Jaz. “You'd best watch your back."
"I will. You know, I thought you were going to blow it for me back there,” she laughed. “You looked at me several times."
"You lucked out,” Loki cut in. “If Athena hadn't been so pissed off at Ares she probably would've taken a bite out of you for spying on us."
Shea gave a bull-like snort. “She'll remember and bite you later."
"Did she say the meeting was over?” Jaz asked. “I wanted to bring up one more point. I need permission to take out another immortal."
"You don't need permission,” Loki snickered. “You want permission. Big difference. Who is it?"
"Hecate."
He grimaced. “That bitch? You know she was a doctor? Yeah. Bast worked with her."
"Bast? You were a doctor?"
"At one time. A long time ago.” She sighed and stood. “Well ... that was fun. Now on to my real reason for coming to town—shopping.” She met Jaz's gaze, laughed aloud, and vanished through a transit tube before Jaz could say anything more.
* * * *
Back on the street some fifteen minutes later, Jaz considered her next move. She walked across the footbridge from Coyote Blue to the mainland and sat in the park overlooking the small marina there. She had her permission—if one could call it that—to go after Hecate. Now the only thing left to do was to assemble the right team.
She had a couple of ideas, but whether they'd all agree was something else altogether.
Thirteen
"Sitting in the dark again?"
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Shea's lip as he turned away from the window and faced the woman standing in the doorway, the light from the hallway back-lighting her hair and giving it a golden glow. “Just thinking."
"Just brooding, you mean,” Nemesis Breed replied sourly. “I know you're worried. They're fine."
Shea shook his head. “I wish I could be so sure."
Breed chuckled and descended the two short steps into the room. “Jaz is a big scary girl. She can take care of herself."
Jaz and her squad had been gone a week. Too long. Everything in him screamed to drop everything else and use the worldgate to follow them. But he couldn't. The project out in the bay was nearing completion, Athena was on the warpath, and the State Department was raising such a stink that it seemed as though you couldn't take two steps in Tacoma without hitting a federal agent not attached to the PAC.
Shea was starting to get the impression the PAC and its satellites had fallen under some pretty intense scrutiny. But by whom? Which agency?
If Raven were around, Shea would have sent him to investigate. The vampire had an amazing talent for getting in and out of places undetected. Only Quickfingers was better at it. And the damned imp wasn't anywhere to be found either.
He hoped they returned soon. If the vampires caught onto the fact that their boogeyman wasn't around to keep them in line, God only knew what would happen.
Athena was livid, not only that she'd gone on this mission without first checking with her, but because she'd taken several of her best agents with her. He found her audacity amusing, though he'd never admit it to Athena.
Maybe he'd been wrong handing it all over to her. He couldn't say he was happy with the way she was handling the responsibility.
He should have known. Shea's leadership style had always been rather liberal, almost libertine. In twenty-five thousand years he hadn't changed much in that respect. It had made him a popular starship companion with his crew, but less popular with his compatriots at the helm of other starships.
It had much the same effect today among his fellow business leaders. His habit of paying his people at least a few dollars more an hour than his competitors had generated some serious heat on occasion. They didn't like that at all.
He'd accused Athena of being a tyrant. Not quite accurate, he decided later. She was simply a control freak, and he'd misjudged her badly when he'd handed her the reins. She was capable enough ... he had no doubt about that, but she'd never learned to give her people the room they needed to learn proper judgment on their own.
"Deryk? Deryk? Earth to Deryk."
He glanced up and shook his head, running thick fingers over his chin. “Sorry. Got lost there for a minute."
"No kidding. Thinking about something pleasant, I hope?” She took a seat on the edge of his desk and peered over at him, arms folded across her chest.
"Not quite. Just thinking about Athena."
Breed sighed. “I know you're not happy with her right now—"
This generated a shrug on Shea's part. “I can live with that. I know she's your best friend, but even you have to admit she's changed."
Breed nodded slowly. “She has changed. But she has one hell of a lot more responsibility than she did when I met her. You gave her that responsibility, Deryk ... how can you judge her for how she's handled it?"
"How? Christ, Nemesis, she tried to have Jaz killed. Doesn't that strike you as a little over-the-top?” He walked over and slid his bulk into his black leather office chair, gazing up at her with a questioning expression as pointed as the query itself.
"I'm not going to sit here and make excuses for her.” She shifted her butt against the desk and glared down at him. “Did you expect me to?"
"Not excuses,” he chuffed, “but maybe an explanation or two. You talk, don't you?"
"Yes. Sometimes. You know, Deryk, I don't want to talk about this right now.” In one sinuous movement she slid off the desk and into his lap, long legs thrown over the chair arms. “I want to talk about us."
He shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to grasp her upper arms. He began to lift her out of his lap and she slammed the heels of both hands into his chest. “I'm staying right where I am."
He let out a low, throaty growl.
"I like it when you growl like that, Deryk,” she said, leaning forward and kissing the end of his nose. “Makes you sound all alpha-male."
His mouth made fish-out-of-water motions as he struggled to connect the wires between his brain and his tongue. “What do you think you're doing?"
"Breaking the ice."
His brow furrowed. “You're not breaking the ice, you're melting it."
She leaned down and planted a quick kiss on his lips. He blinked up at her as she drew back and laughed. “You should see your face right now."
His jaw tightened and his lips compressed into a tight white line. “I don't think—"
"Oh, shut up, Deryk.” She grabbed the back of his hair and yanked his head close, covering his mouth with her own. He opened his mouth to object and she pulled harder, tongue dancing out to run itself across his upper lip, teasing it between her teeth and nibbling gently. “I'm going to seduce you and there's nothing you can do about it."
"Oh, really?"
"Really. I'm sick of dancing around this. We're together just about twenty-four seven. I'm interested and
you're interested, as much as you'd like to deny it."
Her eyes held his gaze for a long, breathless moment. “Ah, hell,” he murmured, and drew her into his arms, crushing his lips to hers. One arm slid down her back, cradling her butt, as he levered himself out of his chair and carried her across the room and into the hall.
Enough was enough. He couldn't resist any longer. He didn't want to resist any longer. She'd become like a fire in his blood, and he no longer had the will to deny it.
* * * *
Ben Dalmas fell back onto the sofa and threw his arm around his wife's shoulders with a tired sigh.
"He down?” she asked, turning away from the program on the HDV to look at her husband. “God, hon, you look exhausted."
"Hah. I thought having the day off would be a break,” he chuckled tiredly. “Keeping up with the little monster is tough."
"That explains why it's so hard to find a babysitter."
He snorted in response, then leaned over to pull her in for a kiss. “Most babysitters don't have what it takes to deal with a three year old lycanthrope. He's strong as a bull and could give a mule lessons in being stubborn."
"Takes after his father."
"Hardly. His mother, maybe.” He let out a long groan. “I'm worn out."
"Not too worn out, I hope,” she replied smartly, nudging him with an elbow and flashing him a wink.
"Never too worn out for that,” he answered back. He levered himself off the couch and extended a hand down to her. “I'm off to the showers. Care to join—” He cocked his head, frowning. “Ah, crap."
"Your PCD."
"Damn. I thought I put it on mute."
"You did. Still makes a noise. Just not a very loud one. I'll tell you what—I'll climb in the shower and you can join me when you're finished."
"Can't I just ignore it?"
He gave her a skeptical look. “You can try, but I know you'd never succeed. Tell Athena I said ‘hi'."
"You know me too well, husband.” She laughed and pulled him down for a soul-searing kiss that left him standing there, half in a daze, as she turned and pranced back toward the living room, pausing only long enough to fire a wink at him over her shoulder.
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