Quickening, Volume 2 Page 9

  She blinked, long and slow, and focused those burning coal pits on me as though she’d forgotten who I was for a moment and was trying to connect what I’d said with the truth.

  Suddenly she started to tremble, a skeleton covered in leaves on the wind.

  “Of course I care,” she rasped, and the trembling ceased. “You’re Green’s pet human—and his best weapon. If I can get rid of you, I can have his entire kingdom, and my revenge will be complete.”

  A chill ran up my spine. She hadn’t been lying—she just hadn’t been paying attention. In fact, she’d had the same distracted look on her face that I probably had when I talked to the vampires.

  Without warning I shot up twenty feet into the air. I barely felt the wind of their passing as two werewolves—big ones, well fed—leaped out of the shadows aimed straight at me, teeth out, snarling and slavering. And oh, holy Goddess, they’d almost gotten me. Yeah, sure, a bite from one of those werewolves might be reversed by Green and some quick transfusions, but I’d probably be really sick in the meantime, and the fight not to be taken over by the madness of holding two or three magics in one body might kill me.

  It would definitely kill the children living inside me.

  My stomach threatened to rebel, and I almost threw up on the snapping, slavering werewolves.

  Fury flooded my veins. I threw two power balls in quick succession, almost depleting my ability to fly in one mighty surge.

  The first ball hit the werewolves and cooked them fast and hard, the smell of charred dog hair and melted fat almost making me throw up again.

  Before the smell even wafted up, the second power ball was in motion, aimed at that nightmare woman’s glowing form. The first ball had found its mark, but I wavered, and the second ball….

  Blew up the tree behind where she was standing. She disappeared so fast that I hoped she withered into dust from using that much power.

  I knew I wasn’t in such great shape after all the energy I’d just used.

  Bracken, Grace, and Arturo pulled into the clearing and hovered near me, all of them glowering with such fierceness that I forced myself to remember what I’d done wrong.

  What I came up with was that terrible moment of realizing I might have survived the werewolf attack, but the children… the children would not have.

  Bracken heard my little moan first. He swooped below and caught me as my emotions sent me spinning out of control.

  “I can fly,” I defended, staying still in his embrace because struggling was stupid and childish, and hadn’t I done enough already?

  You know that way people pronounce words when they’re squeezing them out through a rage-constricted throat and grinding teeth, syllable by syllable?

  “I would appreciate it if you didn’t.”

  And where the snow and the night and the flying hadn’t done it, Bracken’s fury did. I started to shiver so hard my vision blurred. I didn’t stop until after he got me back to Green’s hill, into some warm, dry sweats, and under the covers, nursing a cup of hot-chocolate-o’-shame in a stony silence.

  Nicky: Fatherhood

  THEIR FURY was building like an ion charge in a thunderhead.

  Green and Bracken were gonna fucking lose it.

  Not that I blamed them. One minute we were winning, watching the werewolves stumble out of limbo, their tie to the elf bitch broken and their own identities free to creep back at their own speeds.

  And then….

  Zoom.

  Like a slingshot or a little dog down the street—that’s how fast Cory had taken off, and that’s how stunned we were when we realized where she was heading.

  Arturo turned and screamed at Green—“Don’t fucking move!” or something close—and Bracken was already after her. Holy hell. I flew all the time—had been flying since I was a kid—but in that entire life of flying, I didn’t remember seeing anything like those humanoid forms sizzling through the air. They weren’t people, they were projectiles with minds of their own, and I was just a bird. I could barely keep up.

  I’d been a mile behind them when I saw the two flashes—power balls, as Cory called them—light up the ground. Then Bracken, Arturo, and Grace dropped out of sight. By the time I caught up with them, Bracken had Cory and there was nothing to do but the trailing behind on the way back to the hill.

  I had time to think as we went, though, and I was one up on everybody else by the time we got downstairs.

  That summer, she—there was really only one she as far as we were all concerned—had killed children, had almost died, and had faced the possible death of Green, whom we all loved. And in one charming, painful gesture, she had let me know I wasn’t going to be a part of dealing with that. She just dropped me off at the airport so I could go visit my boyfriend, telling me that what was going to happen next was too intense, I hadn’t signed on for it, and I could go heal now—Bracken and Green would take care of it all.

  Yeah, they’d taken care of it, all right. They’d knocked her the hell up.

  Not that I blamed them—it was unmistakably Cory’s doing. Me and Cory, we were small town. I understood how wanting control over your own life and your own body could backfire that way. It had happened to a lot of people I knew. Cory hadn’t been prepared for it, that was all—it was a simple human thing, and she was usually thinking far above the simple human things.

  That’s why they bit her on the ass.

  She needed me.

  That one thing had become clear to me since I’d returned to the hill and smelled that pregnant, quickening aura in our home. She needed me.

  No, I wasn’t her great love. Never would be. But when she saw me with Bracken or Green, she had the feeling her lovers were cared for when she couldn’t. She needed me for that. When Green or Bracken got too intense, she needed the lover who was not all about sex and power, the lover who didn’t eat thunder and crap lightning. She needed me. Yeah, sure, I was a smartass. But we had that in common. Cory and Bracken—when they argued, they could rip the hill apart. Me and Cory, we barely snapped towels on each other’s ass. If we were a human couple, I could see us, hand in hand, making a baby’s room and fucking shit up ten ways to Sunday—and laughing and doing our best.

  Even counting Green and Bracken, there was not another person in the hill who could grab her hand and skip into the sunset with her. Even counting Teague, who was her friend but would never cross that line even when it needed to be crossed.

  I’d felt that need building in her all semester when she and Bracken talked about not killing a guy when a simple protocol could put him in his place. I’d felt it when she went into the ultrasound and then needed someone to lighten shit the fuck up in the suddenly flying car. It was why I hadn’t gone to see Eric that Thanksgiving and had no plans to see him at Christmas. It was, in fact, why I’d given Eric up and told him he was free to live his own life without an inexplicably tied-up boyfriend who dropped in and out like weather.

  For one thing, I had Bracken in my bed now, and between him and Green I was a very happy five-on-the-Kinsey-Scale boy. (Goddess bless the Internet—apparently the Kinsey Scale was much more acceptable than the Faggot Scale my peer group had used when I was growing up.)

  But mostly there was Cory. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t the great love of her life. Between loving her as a husband and loving her as a queen and loving her as a friend, there was no way I could love a human being—even Green or Bracken, even Eric—more than I loved her.

  And suddenly, with the advent of children on the scene, it didn’t matter that I was everybody’s third choice.

  I was going to be a father too.

  And my wife was having a baby too.

  I was something to her that no other man was, even if there wasn’t a name for it.

  And right now, that thing was exactly what she needed.

  Green and Bracken were icy quiet, and I was sure they were waiting for me to go so they could have their intense, oh-my-God-everybody-could-have-died powwow with her.
But you know?

  I got to have my say first.

  I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes as she drank her hot chocolate. Katy and Jack—gotta hand it to them. They took their roles as provisioners for the power throwers seriously.

  “You couldn’t have fucking waited?” I asked, making my voice as bitchy as possible.

  She stuck out her tongue. “She was falling!”

  “Yeah, I know. We all fuckin’ saw. But you couldn’t have, say, turned to Bracken and said, ‘Bracken, sweetheart, due’alle, big-cocked bastard in my bed, could you go over and suck that bitch’s blood out of her body for me?”

  Oh yeah—she almost lost it, and she had to pull in her full lips in order to purse her mouth. Well, Bracken’s penis could lighten the heaviest moment, unless it was right up your ass.

  “She didn’t have any blood,” Cory replied soberly. “She was all skinny bitch, no blood.”

  I didn’t even have to play. I wrinkled my nose. “Fucking eww.”

  “I’m saying,” Cory grumbled. “Every time she moved, her skin flapped around like a Renaissance dress on a runway model. It was terrifying.”

  “So why didn’t you take her out?” I asked, but not accusingly. That last part was very important.

  “She had werewolves waiting,” she grudged. Then an evil smile lit up her wide-cheekboned face. “Did you not smell the cooked dog?”

  I couldn’t deal. I tilted my head back, studied the newly maroon ceiling, and groaned. “Oh my fucking God. Was that what the stench was?”

  Cory shuddered. “I almost threw up on them as they were starting to heal. That would have made it extra special.”

  “Fucking gross,” I said, shaking my head. Then, while Green and Bracken were calming down—I could feel them lightening the fuck up, because the sense of storm was fading—I pulled up the chair and sat down next to the bed. “Cory?”

  She looked at me soberly. “You gonna yell at me too?” Her voice shook a little, and I was reminded of how she hated it when we yelled.

  “No.” I took her hands in mine. They were icy cold, and the nail beds were still tinged blue. Yeah, we weren’t overreacting—she’d been seriously cold by the time Bracken got her wrapped up and in bed. “But I am going to throw a little guilt on you, so hang on.”

  “There’s nothing—”

  “I broke up with Eric,” I told her baldly.

  Her jaw dropped, and instantly—instantly—her freckled face softened with compassion. “But… but why, sweetie? Why? He was yours—all yours!”

  I nodded. “Yeah. But I would rather be Daddy Three than Eric’s number one. So let Green and Bracken lay the heavy shit on you. I’m sure they’ll have plenty to say. Just remember—I’m the most human person in your bed, and I love you. I love the babies. I thought you were worth giving someone up for—someone I loved—because being a part of this group was so much more important than having someone outside of it. So you find a way to make that work for all of us, okay? This thing you’re doing”—and for the first time, I got to deliberately touch her stomach, acknowledging that there was a gift growing in there for all four of us—“it’s a really tremendous thing. You don’t have to go kill the elf bitch and pass all your classes and get a degree in queenship or whatever just to impress us. I mean, you didn’t have to do all that before you forgot the fucking magic condom, but you really don’t have to do it now. Just remember that the next time you feel like storming the castle, okay? There’s a reason the queen has a knight and a bishop and a rook and shit on the board. It’s so she doesn’t have to fly off and die.”

  Cory cleared her throat, looking highly uncomfortable. But for once—and Holy Goddess, wasn’t this an improvement—for once, she didn’t argue with me.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, okay.”

  When I kissed her cheek, her skin was still chilled under my lips. “I’m going to go get you—”

  “No,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Don’t go. If everyone’s going to yell at me, I want you to be here.”

  “We’re not going to yell at her,” Bracken snapped.

  “I don’t believe you,” she deadpanned.

  Oh, yeah—there would be yelling. So much yelling. I should have brought a book.

  Cory: Bed Rest

  BRACKEN WAS trying so hard not to be angry at me, not to make me shiver, not to just let loose his frustration. It was painful to behold.

  Green’s face was the color of ice.

  Nicky’s hand in mine lent me courage the way his small-boned body lent me warmth. He’d broken up with his boyfriend for us. For all of us, including the babies. It was a sacrifice I’d never have asked him to make—but to have him here, next to me, no divided loyalties? Oh, there were not words enough for how grateful I felt.

  And what was I supposed to say? That I was sorry? Well, I was and I wasn’t. I was sorry I’d forgotten and gone in after her myself. But I wasn’t sorry for how I felt, for the thing that had driven me.

  “It’s just that…,” I started, feeling my throat constrict, “I’m so tired of being afraid. I just want to… to have our family, and be pregnant, and not worry every fucking day about this. And….” I waved the hand Nicky wasn’t clenching. “I know this won’t be the last time we fight, or the last enemy we have.” All those damned history and politics classes, they weren’t for nothing. The Roman Empire had fallen, the Aztecs had fallen, the United Republic of Consumerism wasn’t doing so hot. All successful governments had weaknesses and downfalls. Ours would too. “There will always be obstacles,” I said, the full weight of time and inevitability falling on my shoulders. “But for just… Goddess, just long enough to have our children, to know they’re sound, to be able to put them out of danger. I just want some fucking peace.”

  Nicky let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and some of the tension in the room changed shape, becoming an ineffable sadness.

  “I can’t make any guarantees, beloved,” Green said, voice throbbing with a lover and child who had been dead for over a thousand years. He came to crouch in front of me, hands on my knees. “The only thing I can tell you is that if you don’t show some consideration for yourself and the life inside you, you may have more peace than you can bear.”

  I nodded, stricken. My lower lip began to tremble, and suddenly I wasn’t a queen or a weapon or a sorceress or a commander or any of those other things that I represented to the people at the hill.

  Suddenly I was a young mother, and just that quickly I could see the terrible moment of sadness when that face of motherhood ceased to be.

  There was no splitting hairs or being right with that one. There was only sorry.

  My wail of “I’m sorry!” could probably be heard throughout the hill, and I couldn’t be wrapped in Green’s arms tight enough. There was a moment, though—I felt it—when he stiffened. Something had happened that needed his attention.

  I pulled back and wiped my face with the back of my hand—’cause I’m just classy that way—and sniffled. “Go,” I said thickly. “I’ll be here when you get back. Promise.”

  He lingered for a moment, nuzzling my neck and leaning against me temple to temple, and I drank in as much of him as I could get. With a whisper of a kiss across my cheek, and a strong clasp of Bracken’s shoulder, he was gone.

  “I’m not gonna yell,” Bracken said after a moment, looking away.

  “Wouldn’t blame you if you did,” I offered apologetically.

  He came and sat on my other side, my non-Nicky side, and wrapped his arm around me too. I leaned on him, because he was Bracken, but every now and then a shudder still rocked me when a spasm of fury fought past his mental shields.

  We sat for a moment, him staring a hole through the door to our room and me staring a hole through his profile. For that long moment, he didn’t look at me.

  “I would have been the one to find your body,” he said, voice expressionless. “Sucked dry, bleeding out, broken beyond recognition.�
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  Oh, Goddess. “Bracken, I—”

  “I would have been the one who had to bear you to Green and watch as he fell to earth and Arturo caught him.”

  I shook with my own sobs now, not his anger. It felt as though his anger was bleeding out with every word.

  “I would have been the one facing all of our people as I held the body of their hope, their queen.”

  I was devastated. There was no part of me untouched by tears and sorry.

  “Please,” he rasped, voice breaking finally. “Please remember that. Sometime before your body starts to move would be good, but… but….” He pulled in a fractured breath. “Goddess, beloved, anytime at all before you’re falling out of the sky would be a vast fucking improvement.”

  He was shaking, weeping, head in my lap, arms around my waist, and I could do nothing but hang on to him and be glad Nicky was there beside us, stroking his hair too and giving me strength.

  I WOKE up with all four of us in my bed and Arturo sitting politely in one of the chairs on the side, leafing through one of my politics textbooks and muttering to himself as he went. Yeah, well, fucking humans. We could screw up a good thing with one deep breath.

  “Wha’s up?” I yawned. Arturo glanced at me, apparently unsurprised that in a bed full of immortal beings who rarely slept, I would be the only one up. I knew Brack and Green had taken turns leaving the night before, checking on the werewolves at the border and making sure they were getting the hell out of Dodge.

  “Iris wishes to speak to you.”

  “Just me?” I wrinkled my nose.

  “Actually, you and Green together.” Arturo furrowed his brow and looked fierce. “I would prefer neither of you, but she will only speak if both of you are there.”

  “What is it about?” I sat up and yawned, showing all my teeth behind my hand. The thought of talking to her again made me snarl. “And can we borrow an orange jumpsuit for her to wear?” One of the stupid things I hated most about talking to Iris was that, even in jeans with her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, she still looked older and smarter and more glorious than I did.