“Experienced,” he countered, and I found myself blushing again. Stupidly.
“I am leaving now,” I muttered, and he laughed. “Is this payback for bringing Rayna up? Because if it is, I am really sorry I did so.”
He grinned, and stood up, much too close to me for my own comfort. I could smell him, and he reminded me of cool forests and warm fire. “Partially,” he answered, and I forced myself to look up at him. “But more because I realized the other night how completely amazing you are. I want to know more.”
“More,” I murmured, forcing myself to look away from his eyes.
“So much more,” he said, his voice low, a little rough, and the sound of it made something curl deep inside me, made my entire body warm.
“I think that is a terrible idea,” I whispered.
He leaned in, even closer, and I felt utterly dwarfed by him. “I excel at terrible ideas, Eunomia,” he said softly.
I could not look at him, yet my legs seemed unable to move, when I knew I should have been backing away. What in the Nether was he doing to me? Did shifters release some type of pheromone that made their prey completely stupid? I would have to ask Artemis.
“I need to go. I have work,” I said, managing, barely, to find my voice. My throat was so dry, and my voice, usually so strong, so steady, was shaking just a little. I could hear it, and hoped he did not.
“Running, Tink?” he asked, and I could hear the humor in his voice.
“Not running. Just doing the sensible thing.”
“Which is?”
“Walking away,” I said, forcing myself to meet his eyes. There was still a hint of a smile on his lips, and his gaze was warm.
“I believe I’ve managed to spook Death’s hunter,” he said.
“I am not spooked, you ridiculous male.”
He laughed, and turned toward the side of the loft where his rooms were located. “If you say so, Tink. We’ll talk more when you get back.” He turned back to me. “Be careful, okay?”
I nodded. And once he was in his own rooms, I felt as if I could breathe again.
Oh, I would most definitely be asking Artemis about this! I have never in my existence behaved so stupidly with anyone, male or female. I added it to my mental list, and focused, irritation with myself gnawing at me as I rematerialized at street level, just outside the loft. I needed to clear my head.
Chapter Five
I walked past the library, around the corner and back toward the Detroit Institute of Arts. I’d often admired the building from the outside. Its limestone facade was lit with bright floodlights, making the building appear to glow in the night. The reproduction of Rodin’s “Thinker” sat, ponderous as always, near the entrance.
I reminded myself that I still intended to check it out. I enjoy museums. They are interesting, though I often end up feeling depressed about how little humanity has actually managed to save.
The conversation with the shifter had unnerved me more than I cared to admit. Obviously, he was toying with me. That entire thing had come out of nowhere, and I mentally kicked myself for starting our conversation on that path at all. That was a complication I definitely did not need in my life.
Once I was around the museum, I glanced around, then quickly shed my jacket, hiding it beneath some shrubbery. Looking around one more time, I spread my wings, gave them a few strong flaps, and rose into the air.
A few powerful movements had me high above the city, perfect, empty darkness all around me. This. This was the single best thing about being me. It was not long life, because, really, at times I honestly wondered what the point was of living forever. It was not strength, the ability to heal, or the ability to touch and communicate with the dead. Flight. If I could spend eternity soaring through the air, I would.
I smiled to myself and kicked off, flying faster into the emptiness, feeling the biting autumn air on my face, my arms as my wings propelled me faster, farther, and I dove, then swooped up again, flying circles in midair. This was what made eternity bearable, because even after thousands of years, nothing felt the same when I flew. It was always exhilarating, always freeing, always just a little frightening. Hephaestus believed it was the thrill of setting myself apart from the world. Perhaps it was. I have no desire to be human. There is no shame in celebrating the things that make us unique.
The Detroit River came into sight before long, and I gently dove toward it. As I did, I felt several beings nearby. Immortals.
Most immortals who chose to live in the city were known to Mollis and the rest of the team. These, I could feel already, were not immortals that were part of our usual group. For one, they were not strong enough.
Lesser gods, then, I thought, grimacing at the derisive name Zeus, Hades, and the others had given to those who were beneath them in the immortal hierarchy. Technically, I am one of them. A lesser god.
Less of a pompous ass, perhaps.
Still, any immortal, lesser or not, was dangerous. And a group of them here, in our city, was probably not the best sign.
I brought myself in for a landing, my feet settling gently on the wet sand of the beach on Belle Isle, which was an island park located just off the coast of Detroit. I could hear the water splashing as gentle waves crested onto the beach. Downtown Detroit sparkled in the distance.
I studied the immortals, who were standing there as if they’d been waiting. I knew every one of them, of course. Triton, son of the sea god Poseidon and a sea nymph. Cithaeron, a mountain god who was a former lover of Mollis’ mother. Iris, one of the many earthly gods, and her close friend Aeolus. Nature gods, followers of Gaia. Eiar and Thelos, the goddesses of spring and summer, respectively. Rounding out the group was Ares’ and Aphrodite’s son, Eros. I was not exactly pleased with his presence. There had been a very unpleasant incident a few years back, in which Eros had schemed with his brothers to punish Hephaestus for the death of their parents at Mollis’ hands, as well as his loyalty to Mollis. While Eros had eventually overcome his anger toward Hephaestus and done the right thing by not harming Hephaestus’ mate, Meaghan, I still did not trust him entirely. His parents were cruel beyond any beings I have ever known. I have no reason to believe he is different.
I lowered and folded my wings, taking my time as I nonchalantly inspected the group. They were tense, that much was clear. Not a friendly face among them, for the most part. Though, to be fair, my kind are not known for making friends.
“This is an odd place for sightseeing,” I said, keeping my hands at my sides, ready to pull the daggers from my holster if it became necessary.
“We are not here for pleasure, believe me,” Aeolus said, looking around in disdain. “The things the humans have done to this world.”
“Yes. Well. More help from their gods may have helped, maybe?” Most of the nature gods fled the areas where they were actually needed, choosing to live in places that were pristine, untouched. A waste of their power.
“As if it would matter. They destroy everything they touch,” Iris added, glaring at me. She was definitely not among my favorite immortals. Despite her cheerful, bright appearance, her rainbow-streaked hair that flowed to her ankles, the way her skin seemed to shimmer, she was among the most unpleasant beings I have ever encountered.
Eros looked as perfect as always, as if he’d stepped out of a magazine. Aeolus, with his flowing white hair and gray eyes, looked every bit the god of the winds. The goddesses of spring and summer would have been mistaken for fairies. Shimmering wings. Like Tinkerbell.
I groaned inwardly, annoyed with myself for remembering the shifter’s new nickname for me.
“They do not care. Why waste our time?” Iris pressed.
“Time is something you have in abundance, no?” I shot back, crossing my arms.
“Maybe not,” Triton said, and I finally forced myself to look at him. It brought back a flood of memories I would rather not think about. The god standing before me, with his long red hair, full beard, and sparkling green eyes symboliz
ed everything that was wrong with me. He symbolized the moment I realized I was damaged, that even among my sisters who looked, sounded, and acted like me, I was alone.
Defective.
We’d become friends almost immediately. He was the first friend I’d ever had, and that alone made him strange enough, considering that my kind do not develop bonds like that. My friendship with Hephaestus and Artemis came much later, after I learned to accept whatever it was that was wrong with me, that made it so that I felt things my sisters did not. We are, by nature, meant to be aloof. Separate. Above entangling alliances and petty disagreements. My friendship with him made me suspect there was something wrong with me.
And, more so, the moment I realized I had deeper feelings for him, feelings he never suspected or returned. Everything I’d felt for him, for thousands of years, made me feel confused and wrong, somehow. It played into every insecurity I’d had about myself, magnified every way in which I was different from my sisters. It bothered me less now, especially now that I had seen what my sisters were capable of, but the memory of my shame and confusion still haunted me, not to mention my embarrassment over the ridiculous unrequited longing I had once had for him.
I looked away from him. “Surely you have not just now decided to start panicking about my Queen?” I asked him, keeping my voice flat, devoid of emotion. I was quite good at pretending, even if inside I was nothing but turmoil.
He threw a small smile my way, and I steeled myself against it.
“No. Not for my part, anyway, Eunomia. If you trust her, that is enough for me.”
I nodded, his warm tone, that small smile, relieving me more than I would have expected.
“I am glad to hear that, Triton. You should meet her some time,” I added.
“I would like that very much. My father respects her.”
“Let me know, and I will set something up for you.”
“Thank you,” he said with a small bow, and Iris cleared her throat in irritation.
“If we could get on with the reason you thought it would be such a great idea to come to this hellhole, Triton?” she said, looking around in disgust.
“We have a problem, Eunomia,” Eros put in before the immortals could start debating one another.
“And that is?”
I watched as the gods exchanged several uncomfortable glances, as if they were waiting for someone to speak up.
“Well?” I pushed, and Triton smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners the same as they always had.
“Still not one for niceties, hm?” he asked.
“Too old and cranky for nonsense, perhaps.” I crossed my arms, though remained at the ready in case an attack came.
“You were born old and cranky,” he said with a laugh.
“I was not born at all.”
“That was a… never mind,” he said with a smile. “I convinced the others to come here because we need your help and there are few I trust other than you.”
I kept my face blank. “All right. What can I do for you?”
“Typical Guardian,” I heard Iris whisper derisively to Aeolus. I chose to pretend I had not heard it.
Triton met my eyes. He’d heard it as well, of course. I gave an almost imperceptible shrug, and he nodded in response. “A few among our number have gone missing.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Perhaps they wanted to be alone. We all do that from time to time.”
He shook his head. “That is not the case this time, unfortunately. These are immortals who rarely left those places they were most comfortable.”
“Our sisters would have told us,” Thelos said, the waver in her voice signaling her distress.
“Autumn and Winter are missing?” I asked, using the common names for them. Thelos nodded. “For how long?”
“They went missing four days ago. I cannot find them.”
I studied Thelos, shifted my gaze to her sister, Eiar. That was unsettling, at the very least. The four Seasons could feel one another. They rarely left one another’s sides. Inseparable.
“Who else?” I asked. I looked down at my boot. My Queen would have to hear about this. One more thing.
“Pthinoppen. Cheimon. Nemesis—“ Thelos began.
“Nemesis is unlikely to actually be in danger,” Triton interrupted.
“Says you. She would not just take off like that,” Eros said.
I shook my head. “Zeus’s children do as they like. You know that, Eros,” I said.
“She would not,” he insisted. “And you well know she is not like most of her siblings.”
“I know,” I said, meeting his eyes. Ever-protective of his closest friend. He was not wrong. While Zeus’s other children, including Athena, had more than a fair share of their father’s warlike temperament, the spirit daemon of retribution was among one of the most level-headed, fair-minded immortals I’d ever known. “Besides those three?” I asked Triton.
“Angelia and Penthus, as far as we know. We are still trying to get in touch with the others.”
I stood still, considering. Lesser gods. Spirit daemons. Most of them had kept to themselves during Mollis’ battles with the gods. The spirit daemons, other than those who chose to antagonize Mollis on purpose, simply had continued doing what they’d always done; living among the mortals, whispering, maneuvering the actions of humanity as if it was all nothing more than one grand game.
“So what do you want me to do about this?” I finally asked, meeting Triton’s gaze once more before looking away.
“We want you to do what you do best. Track them. Find them.”
“I track the dead,” I reminded him.
“We all know you do much more than that. You tracked Hades’ daughter, after all, when no one else even realized she existed.”
“How exactly did you manage that, Guardian?” Iris asked, more curious than disdainful, for once.
“Lucky guess,” I muttered. “I am currently working on something for Mollis. I will work on this as well, as long as I have her blessing to do so. I will need to tell her about this. It concerns her world, after all.”
The lesser gods nodded.
“None of you have presented yourselves to her. Why not?” I asked.
“She is not my Queen,” Iris said. “I follow the rules and laws of one, and one only. Mother Gaia.”
“And Mother Gaia has allied herself with Mollis,” I pointed out. “This is an ally you want. Believe me.”
“I need no allies,” Iris said, flipping her multi-colored hair over her shoulder.
“I intended to go,” Eros said, looking uncomfortable. “But I did not know where I stood after that unpleasantness I was part of regarding Hephaestus and his mate.”
I thought of several things to say to him, and none of them were kind or reassuring. In the end, the best I could come up with was, “if she wanted you dead, you would be.”
“I’ve been in hiding,” he admitted.
“She would have found you. Or she would have sent me to find you,” I said, and he nodded.
“I will pay her a visit.”
I glanced to Triton, and he gave me a small smile.
“Why don’t you come with me tomorrow? We can tell her of this issue together then, and you can fill her in on any details that may come to you between now and then.”
He nodded his agreement. “Can I meet you here in the morning, then?”
“Sure. Eros?”
He grinned. “I’m not ready to risk my life just yet.”
“Hephaestus is more likely to try to kill you than Mollis. I think he is mostly over it.”
“All right,” he sighed. “I’ll meet the two of you here then.”
I told them what time to meet me the following morning, watched as, one by one, they disappeared, each of the lesser gods leaving to rematerialize elsewhere. Eventually, it was just Triton standing there with me. He smiled.
“It’s been too long, Eunomia,” he said.
“It has,” I agreed with a nod.
“Of course. I am me, after all.”
He laughed. “Still the same.”
I shrugged. “Only in some ways.”
He was standing close enough to me to reach one long arm out, and before I realized it, he was tugging my hair as he always had, a brotherly gesture thousands of years old. I laughed, and swatted his hand away.
“You are ridiculous,” I muttered, and he laughed again.
“I will see you in the morning, little ghost,” he said, a nickname very few others could get away with.
“I hate it when you call me that.”
“I know you do.” And in the next instant, he was gone. I was alone, and I shook my head. After a few moments of blessed quiet, I rose into the air again, and headed toward the museum to gather my coat, and from there, I rematerialized into my room at the loft. I did not think I would sleep, but once I was settled, I was grateful for the heaviness in my eyelids, the grogginess of my thoughts, and I soon felt myself drifting off to sleep, hoping all would go well the following morning with Mollis.
I was not completely sure she would not try to kill Eros, after all.
Chapter Six
“Why the hell didn’t you just come here? I would have healed you,” I heard Mollis’s voice berating someone as soon as I opened my bedroom door. I trotted down the stairs to see Nain and Mollis standing side by side, glaring at Brennan, who was sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island, his shirt off, a large gauze pad over his left shoulder.
“Because stitches work just fine. I’ll heal fast enough anyway,” Brennan was saying. Mollis and the demon both started arguing with him.
“Rough night, shifter?” I asked over them as I headed for the stove, turning on the burner under the tea kettle.
“A scratch,” he said, winking at me.
“From what?”
“Werewolf. We’ve been having more problems with them lately. They used to be so good at making sure they were contained around the full moon,” he said, shrugging his uninjured shoulder.
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