Chapter Five

 

 

Re took Odin and I to Sekhmet's home, which was actually on the island of Bet Dwarka; about nineteen miles from the coast of Dwarka. Oh, so many Dwarkas. After we arrived, Re texted everyone a picture of Sekhmet's home so that they could use the image to trace there.

“Why haven't I thought of that?” I grumbled as I watched Re send the message. “All this time, we could have been sending pictures instead of tracing in big, prayer circles.”

“The only reason I bought this phone was to text you.” Re waved his cell phone at me. “So, you're partially responsible for me figuring this out.”

“You've taken well to human technology,” Odin noted as we followed Re to the front door.

“It's not as if it's hard to understand after working with Atlantean technology,” Re said.

“I've never thought of it like that.” Odin's expression lightened. “Perhaps I'll buy a computer.”

“You don't need a computer,” I huffed. “You have Santa TV.”

“Santa TV has its restrictions,” Odin said and then groaned. “Damn it all; now you've got me calling Hlidskjalf that ridiculous name.”

“I slip into your brain slowly,” I said as I fluttered my fingertips together deviously. “You don't even known I'm there and then; blammo!” I blasted my hands apart. “You say something in Vervain vernacular... Vervaincular.”

“Oh, yay,” Odin said dryly, “another new word.”

“I love it!” Persephone declared as she walked over to us. She gave me a big hug. “Hey, girl. We brought Hades' daughter with us; I hope you don't mind.”

“Hades has a daughter?” I asked in shock.

“From a brief liaison pre-Persephone,” Hades explained as he walked up with a stunning brunette. He waved to the woman and said, “This is my daughter, Macaria; Goddess of Blessed Death. Mac, this is Vervain, Godhunter; and a whole list of other things.”

“Hey,” Macaria—aka Mac—said as she reached out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you. Dad has told me a lot about you.”

Macaria's eyes matched her hair; a nice, normal brown—so she didn't take after Hades in that respect. She was slim and tall, with porcelain skin and a sassy look to her face that was most-likely due to an eyebrow that seemed to arch higher than its partner.

“Yeah; nice to meet you too.” I gaped at her. “Sorry; I'm just a bit thrown. I had no idea that you existed.”

“I get that a lot.” She smirked and shrugged. “I like to keep a low profile.”

“I feel Death among us,” Azrael intoned dramatically as he walked up with my other husbands (all except for Arach, of course—he was in Faerie with our sons).

“Yeah; that's you, dude,” Trevor huffed.

“No; I believe he means me,” Macaria announced as she turned toward the men. “What's up, Death Angel?”

“Hello,” Az said with a frown. “Do I know you?”

“Auntie Mac!” Morpheus exclaimed.

Our other winged member of the God Squad came rushing past Az to hug Macaria.

Then Morpheus, the Greek God of Dreams, turned to speak to everyone, “This is my Father's sister, Macaria. She's the Goddess of Blessed Death.”

“She's your aunt?” I looked from Morpheus to Hades questioningly.

“On her mother's side,” Hades explained. “I had one child with Nyx, but she had many children with Erebus.”

“Erebus...” I nodded as I recalled meeting Morpheus' grandfather on Olympus. “Okay; I think I get it now.”

“Oh, you,” Azrael's expression lightened as he continued to stare at Macaria. “I've felt you before.”

“Excuse me?” I gave Az a horrified look.

“He means that he's felt my death energy before,” Macaria explained. Then she turned back to Az. “Yeah; I think we crossed paths once in Italy.”

“The Spring of 1348,” Azrael murmured. “Black Death. You were collecting some Greek souls in Florence.”

“You remember!” Macaria said as if it were a party they'd both been to. “Yeah; that was me.”

“I met my wife during an outbreak of the Black Plague as well.” Azrael smiled brightly.

“What a coinkydink,” Macaria said merrily.

“Am I only one who zinks zis is veird?” Kirill asked as he eased up beside me.

I shook my head, but it was Odin who answered, “Nope; not the only one.”

“Sam is vatching Lesya,” Kirill whispered to me before he kissed my cheek. “She said to take our time; zey're going on picnic.”

“Thanks,” I whispered back. “I need to get that woman a muffin basket or something.”

“Jewelry is better,” Kirill said sagely.

“Nice to meet you, Brother Death.” Macaria shook Azrael's hand. “Like actually meet instead of passing by each other at work.”

“Yes; it is nice.” Azrael laughed. “Though I'm retired.”

“Yeah; Dad told me,” Macaria said. “It's one of the reasons I came along. I don't work a lot these days either, but I remember how restless I was when things first started getting slow, and I thought maybe you might need some pointers.”

“Az is adjusting really well, actually,” I said proudly.

Azrael frowned.

“Aren't you?” I asked. “I thought you were happy?”

“I am happy, Carus,” Azrael assured me. “But there are moments when I feel...”

“Lost?” Macaria asked.

“Yes,” Az whispered. “Lost; without direction.”

“I didn't know,” I said as I blinked through more shock. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“There wasn't anything to be done about it.” Azrael shrugged. “It's not as if I want to start collecting souls again. It's just something I need to get over.”

“This is all very fascinating,” Horus drawled as he walked up with the rest of the Squad. “But could we have this powwow another time? Perhaps when I'm not here.”

“I think I might be offended by that.” Toby frowned.

“By the word 'powwow'?” I asked as I looked pointedly at his Native American face.

“No, by Horus being such a prick,” Toby drawled.

“Very funny.” Horus rolled his eyes. “He's in the Squad for all of three seconds and he's already insulting me; wonderful.”

“The guy catches on fast,” Pan said in approval.

“Be that as it may,” Horus said, “our hostess is waiting on us. It looks as if I'm not the only prick here.”

Horus raised a hand to indicate that Sekhmet was indeed standing within the doorway of her home; waiting for us to notice her. Re had already gone inside; no doubt bored with our conversation. If Re didn't want to be somewhere, he just left. Sometimes I wished I could follow his example.

“Please come in.” Sekhmet waved us in.

“Before we go in, could we just talk about this?” Finn waved his hand toward Odin. “Is that Odin, or has Vervain acquired yet another boyfriend?”

“When Thor shaved, no one said a damn thing,” Odin muttered. “Why am I getting so much flack over this?”

“Because Thor didn't transform into another man when he shaved,” Pan said. “You look like Thor's younger brother.”

“His younger, hotter brother,” Artemis murmured under her breath.

Torrent grimaced at his girlfriend.

“What?” Artemis shrugged. “He's hot; who knew? Be confident enough in your own attractiveness to let me note it.”

“I knew,” I said smugly. “The beard didn't cover all of his attractiveness.”

“But its removal has revealed some striking features, Odin,” Mrs. E said gently. “It's a very good look; you should stay clean-shaven.”

“Oh.” Odin cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Told you.” I winked at my husband.