Chapter Eight
Shannon watched cinnamon buns cool on top of the stove. Her mom used to make sure all freezers remained stocked with a ready-to-bake pan. Thank goodness she’d found one in the freezer today and frozen frosting. Ingredients to bake the buns from scratch, which she could do, required grocery shopping and time. This wasn’t a vacation stop over. Fresh food would spoil if she left it. There was no guarantee she could get back here again to use the food or that she’d even be alive to return.
The heavenly smell of sugary cinnamon reminded her of hundreds of breakfasts with too much food, a lot of laughing, and family. There hadn’t been any family get-togethers since her mom died and no laughing. Without her mom everything was broken.
The responsibility to cook the buns now fell to her. She’d been so wrapped up in finding the Trident that she’d forgotten the importance of this, not just for herself, but also for everyone else. The druids needed her. Her father needed her. Her fellow Pleiades ladies needed her. They needed her to remain strong, bake buns, and save their lives.
Ask Merck to help.
Frosting the buns relaxed her. She wanted Merck to like the food. He deserved buns for risking his life for her and then healing her, even if his method involved almost drowning. The memory of him in action, fighting the snake creatures, amazed her. He’d been cool, relentless, and totally in charge, whereas she’d been a mess. She prided herself on her ability to deal with magical weirdness, but one ensorcelled snake and she’d lost it.
Give yourself a break. It was a monster snake that wanted to kill you.
She felt Merck’s presence before he entered. Her heart beat in her throat, leaving her breathless. The spatula fell to the floor. A few kisses, saving her life, and now she fell apart when he appeared too?
“Tea or coffee?” She recovered the spatula and faked busyness by cleaning droplets of frosting off the stove.
His gaze darted to the percolating coffeemaker. “Coffee works. Black.”
The kitchen shrank when he swung the door shut behind him as if circumventing any plans she had of making a break for it.
“I’m sorry I don’t have much to offer. I’ve got cinnamon buns, though.”
“That sounds nice, but Shannon…” Merck’s low voice sent chills down her spine.
“Yes?” She moved the cinnamon buns to the table and handed him his coffee.
“We need to talk.”
“You’re right.” She placed two plates on the table and served each of them a bun. Jittery, she took the seat across from him. You have no reason to be nervous. There were things to talk about. Big things. Yet, she wanted him to like the buns.
He sipped his coffee in silence, eyebrows raised. She fought not to squirm.
“What?” she finally said, pushing her still-damp hair away from her face. “Do I have frosting on my nose or something?”
A grin split his face. “Frosting? Were you sampling before you used it?”
“A good chef always tastes the food before serving. It’s good frosting.”
Her stomach flipped when he laughed, low and quiet. Humor fled his eyes. The somber man now evaluating her was an entirely different person than the one who’d just grinned.
She crossed her arms.
“Tell me what’s going on.” He didn’t ask. He demanded.
“About what specifically?”
“Let’s start with what attacked us. You truly don’t know what they were?”
“No.”
“Ericthonians. They’re the minions of Athena. She sends them out whenever she wants something or she’s mad. Does she have a reason to be angry with you?”
“The goddess Athena?”
He nodded.
“You said those creatures could be after you, not me.”
“I had a run-in with Ericthonians a few years ago over an item I acquired. She hasn’t sent them after me since then. So, their appearance this time must be about you. Why’re you interesting to her and a lot of other magical shitheads? Are they after you to get the scrying glass?”
Great. Now Athena was after her too. “I hoped to use the scrying glass to find an item. Athena and the others might think I’ve got it already, but I don’t have it. I swear I don’t. I need it, though. The glass might’ve helped me find it, but I didn’t know it required killing someone. I wouldn’t have done that. Maybe I can find one that doesn’t require something evil to power it.”
“What does Athena think you have?”
“Poseidon’s Trident.”
“What?” He put both hands on the table and leaned forward, eyes wide. “Are you shitting me?”
“He thinks I stole it.”
“Poseidon...this is the water god we’re talking about? He threatened you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have it?”
“I just said I didn’t.”
“Why would everyone think you do?”
“Everything about this is ridiculous.” She buried her face in her hands. “No, it’s worse than that. It’s fricking catastrophic.”
“And deadly. Athena’s minions will be back. There’s nothing she’d like better than to have the power of the water world. She’s not a goddess who likes to lose.” He leaned back. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. Explain what’s going on.”
Shannon released a frustrated breath. “A creature who works for Poseidon appeared to me a few weeks ago. He said if I don’t return the stolen Trident by next week, they’ll kill me, every other Pleiades descendant and wipe out all evidence of our bloodlines.”
Merck took a sip of coffee. He didn’t seem impressed by her revelation. “That’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting about everyone I know getting erased?”
“I’m not talking about your people dying. I’m pretty sure Poseidon doesn’t want to wipe out your bloodline. I refer to them thinking you have the Trident. No one can waltz into Poseidon’s underwater fortress and steal it. I’m not sure anyone other than Poseidon can touch it. Well, Zeus or Hades probably could, but it’s not as if either would care enough to get off their golden thrones to steal it. I think the Trident’s power can only be controlled by Poseidon or another very powerful god.”
“Like Athena?”
“Maybe. You’ve touched the Trident, though, and it didn’t kill you, but you’re not a god.”
“I just told you I’ve never seen it. That means I’ve never touched it. I don’t have it.”
“Its essence is…” He waved his hand her way. He stood and moved around the table to kneel by her, his hand hovering over her midsection. “I don’t understand how it’s possible, but Poseidon’s power feels as if it’s here somewhere.”
She flinched when he touched her stomach over the ugly scar. She pushed his hand away. “How would you know that?”
“Hard to explain, but it calls to me as I suspect it would other water creatures or powerful gods.”
“Are you a powerful god?”
“I’m not a god. Let me see.” He tugged up the edge of her T-shirt.
She yanked down the shirt before he saw anything, face flaming. “Please, don’t.”
“Why not? What’re you hiding?”
She released a shaky breath and exposed the magical scar, which although healed into a tangle of mutilated skin, still burned off and on.
“What did this?” He traced the edges of the scar, gently probing.
Heat flared through the scar as if someone poked her with a hot skewer. She gasped, grabbed his wrist and jerked it away from her.
“It burns?”
“Yes,” she choked out. “Don’t touch it. When people with magical powers touch it, it hurts more. Our healer tried to fix the scar, but he couldn’t.”
“What I did couldn’t heal this. Usually, I can heal almost anything.” He touched the side of his face over his scars.
“What did that to your face?” She put a finger on the scarred scratches, still not finding them at all a deterrent from his hard, dangerous appeal.
“It happened the first time I faced off against Ericthonians over that item Athena wanted. The thing scratched the shit out of me, and it turns out if I don’t get to the water in time, I scar.”
“Did you scar today?”
“No.”
“Good.” She cast him a small smile.
“Tell me how you got the thing on your stomach.” His hand hovered over the scar as if he could feel the heat, which simmered from the inside out as if revving up to a power burn again.
“Someone shoved a sword through me a few weeks ago.”
“A sword?” His hand hovered above the scar again. “Not many go for swords these days.”
She squirmed against the softness of his touch. “The blade must’ve been cursed or poisoned or something. Doctors said I should’ve died. It went through my liver and intestines, but I didn’t die.”
“The sword must’ve left something inside you when it went through. Something that prevented you from dying. Maybe a piece of the Trident or the whole thing. Did you steal the Trident or do something to miniaturize it and store it inside yourself?”
“I didn’t steal it. I’m not a sea creature who can hold her breath long enough to reach Poseidon’s home, brave whatever scary things guard it, and then tiptoe in, steal it, and get out. I have no powers to miniaturize.”
“You could get in and then do your dimension travel thing to get out. Or maybe even pop into Poseidon’s domain from here, this other dimension?” His eyebrows shot up.
“It doesn’t work like that. Even if it did, I suck at it. Look at today. I’m clearly not good at ending up where I want. It’s a miracle we ended up on this beach after that snowy place. Also, I didn’t have the ability to move between dimensions until after my mother died, which was after I’d been run through with a blade.”
“Why are you in South Carolina when you’re under some sort of gods’ ultimatum?”
“Mom told me to go to South Carolina right before she died. She said I’d find help there.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What exactly are you aside from a hunter of evil magic people? Whoever you’re descended from has water powers.” Gut instinct told her his water god ancestor was a direct relation, maybe a parent or grandparent.
He resumed his seat and crossed his arms.
She leaned forward. “Which Greek god do you come from? You owe me at least this much.”
“Poseidon.”
“That’s a weird coincidence.” Super jackpot? Maybe not, considering the gods liked to muck around in the lives of her and the other Pleiades ladies. This might be a complex game, and they were the pawns.
“Don’t look at me like I’ve got answers. I’ve never met him. I’ve never seen his Trident other than pictures, which are probably wrong since that’s human guesswork.”
“You’re related to Poseidon. Poseidon has me under an ultimatum. My mom sent me down here for some reason. Any thoughts?”
He shrugged.
“You can get answers, I’ll bet. You’re not as far removed from him as I am from my descendants, are you?”
His face closed down. “What do you want from me?”
“I have to find the Trident and give it back to him within the next week or—”
“You die, everyone you know dies. Scary death shit and end-of-world scenarios. Standard gods Armageddon crap. You said that before.” He shook his head. “I don’t have a clue how to find it.”
He grabbed the cinnamon bun off his plate and bit into it. His eyes drifted closed. “These are really good. Really, really good.”
“Thanks.” She grinned. Now to get him on her team to help. “Why did you come back this morning?”
He finished eating the bun and took a swig of coffee. “I don’t think I’ve had cinnamon buns as good as this. What happened leading up to when you got stabbed with a sword?”
“Good Lord, you’re annoying. Can’t you answer a single question?”
He snagged another cinnamon bun and bit into it. He stared at her in silent demand of an answer.
After a sip of orange juice, she said, “I’ll tell you the rest of the story if you tell me in what way Poseidon is related to you and your thoughts on the Poseidon coincidence.”
He continued chewing on a bun without commitment to the bargain.
“I signed on to a reality TV show as a cameraperson two months ago. It was last minute. I did it to help a friend, the one I called to get the right protective spell against zombies—”
“Zombies don’t exist. They were revenants or animated corpses.”
“Okay, revenants. Once on the TV show, there was a lot more going on than the nightmare of being in a South American rainforest for a few days. The guy who stabbed me was a producer named Rick Holloway. He—”
“What?” Merck’s entire body tensed. He sat upright. “Rick?”
“You know him?”
“My mom dated him for a while. It’s why she moved to California when I went off to college. He’s a real asshole and also of Greek gods descent.”
“I know. He’s dead.”
“How’d Rick die?”
“He stabbed me and then to make sure he finished the job planned to shoot me, but my mother stepped in the way and took the bullet. Before she died she killed him.”
“Are you sure he’s dead?”
“He was smashed by a boulder. Pretty sure. Rick descended from Orion. Apparently, his family is obsessed with killing all of us Pleiades.”
“Reality TV…I assume you mean Extreme Survivor. Was Owen Campbell hosting the show?”
“Yes. His fiancée was killed in the ordeal as well.”
“Owen had a fiancée?”
“Ana something. She was pretty scary for a necromancer, not that I’ve met one before her.”
“Anaïs?” His eyes widened.
Shannon nodded.
“You should stay away from her. She’s not only vicious, but also smart. Are you sure she’s truly dead?”
“Her soul was removed by a death reaper. Come to think of it, you and my friend who’s a death reaper should meet and commiserate over your shitty destinies to chase evil people.”
“He goes after regular people who’re evil. I go after deviant magical shitheads. Him removing her soul doesn’t mean the necromancer is dead. Unless… Did you remove her heart and burn the body? I’m not sure if it’ll work since I burned her once before and she rose from the ashes. My new theory is if I remove her heart and dispose of it elsewhere, then burning the remains of her body might work.”
“I have no idea what happened to her body. I passed out.”
“Let’s assume she’s not dead, then. She likes to absorb multiple souls. Giving up one soul to a death reaper isn’t a big deal.”
“Did you know Owen is Rick’s son?”
“Yeah. We crossed paths a few times. Owen collects friends who practice black magic, but we’ve never picked anything up about him being intent on wiping out all Pleiades. He’s caught up in Hollywood bullshit most of the time.”
“What do you think Poseidon’s Trident has to do with them?” She sipped coffee.
“It promises unlimited power. I’m sure that’s the necromancer’s goal. She may not have counted on you to survive Rick’s attack, definitely not to take the Trident’s power with you. I wonder how they harnessed its power. Or maybe they didn’t know about the Trident until after you’d been stabbed.”
“You said no person could touch the Trident. Why is it possibly in me?” She ran a hand over her stomach, disturbed.
“Told you, darlin’. I don’t have answers. Wish I could help.”
You can help. “Do you have something at your work that could help me find the Trident?”
“Nope.”
“Not a single thing in all that junk you have sitting around, which reeks of magic?”
“It’s all confiscated items. They’re relics best left alone.”
Time to push Merck a little bit. “If you’ve got nothing, then it sounds like I need to pay Owen a visit.”
“Stay away from him and Anaïs.”
She shot him a challenging glare.
“The world of black magic is pouring into South Carolina in search of you. Let’s assume Owen’s friends are interested in you for the same thing. Anaïs will kill you if she thinks it’ll grant her more power.”
“How are you related to Poseidon?”
He slid his chair back and took his dishes to the sink. “He’s my father.”
“What?”
The gaze he cast her clearly indicated that was as much information as he was willing to dish out on the matter.
Merck was a demigod. Oh my. The strength of his power now made sense.
“Can you talk to Poseidon for me?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know him. He’s never wanted anything to do with me.”
So far, the recruit-Merck plan was tanking. She cleared her throat and slid her chair back. “I’ll do the dishes and then see if I can get us back to South Carolina.”
“I can do my own dishes.”
They both washed and dried dishes, and placed the leftover buns in the freezer.
After the plates had been returned to their place in the cabinet, he said, “Don’t go after Owen.”
“You can’t help me. So I need to talk to people who might know something.”
“You have no idea what you’d be up against.”
“I’m fully capable of dealing with whatever comes my way. I’ll do whatever I need to in order to get this situation resolved. Sounds like Owen or his undead fiancée may be my only leads.” She pushed to get past him.
He caught her arm, spun her, and caged her against the refrigerator. His palm supported her chin and fingers wrapped her jaw. “Anaïs is as strategic as she is cunning. She targeted you. It’s not over with her, not so long as whatever has to with the Trident still involves you. The stupidest thing you can do is seek her out, whether you go alone or with your druids.”
She struggled against his hand until he released her face. She bucked, getting herself locked tighter between him and the refrigerator. “Get off me.”
“Not until you promise you won’t do something reckless like fly out to California.”
“Since I’m on my own, I’ll decide my next step. I’m not even sure if you and I are on the same team or if you want to be enemies. We could be on the same team...” She stared at the temptation of his lips. Was she above a little seduction? Naughty witch time. With a smile she leaned in and kissed him hard.
Her body trembled with the force of emotions swirling in her brain. Control slipped away as she fell victim to the mad addiction to succumb and let him take over. For days she’d been wound up, frightened and tangled, needing an outlet. Now it presented itself. Those emotions eagerly funneled themselves into her kiss.
He pulled back. “You’re not seducing your way out of this.” He leaned forward, his lips inching close to hers, but then he ducked away. The tip of his nose brushed her jawline.
He tipped her head sideways and nuzzled down her neck. “I’ll give you what you what right now, but you’ll swear to me you won’t go after Owen.” His hand skimmed down her side, teasing the edge of her breast.
She moaned. “Okay.”
He kissed her neck, quick and brief. Then he nipped her skin, followed by his tongue sweeping over the nip, erasing the sting.
Air wouldn’t move through her chest. She had to breathe or she’d pass out in a few moments from lack of oxygen.
He demanded, “Okay to what?”
She sucked in air. “I promise I won’t go after Owen without you.”
He kissed her again. This time his tongue sneaked past her lips. She got lost in the feel of his warm, smooth lips against hers. She slid into a world where everything was about feeling. A noise, deep and guttural, escaped her.
He lifted his head. The fire in his gaze awed her. It promised a satisfaction she’d never achieved with a man before.
He said hoarsely, “I want you. But I don’t want some confused moment when we’re both unsure of who’s using who to get what we want.”
He didn’t return to kissing.
“I don’t get you. You want me. I want you. It’d probably be pretty good right now.”
“It’d be a damned sight better than pretty good. But no.”
She glared, so confused by mixed messages from him.
He rubbed his eyebrows. “All right. I know someone who might be able to help you, but it won’t be easy and probably dangerous.”