Turner was honored by Kian’s invitation to witness the clan’s big assembly vote on the proposed plan, and grateful for the opportunity to observe the democratic proceedings.

He’d gotten several suspicious looks before Anandur had taken him under his big wing, seating Turner in the front row between himself and a council member named Edna, who’d been gracious enough to explain that the clan didn’t operate as a pure democracy. Not every decision needed a vote, but then even the goddess couldn’t overrule the big assembly’s vote on those that did.

It was a hybrid system, which Edna assured him had withstood the test of time.

Turner listened intently to the councilwoman’s explanations until the moment the two big screens flanking the podium lit up, and he’d gotten his first look at the goddess. No one had to point her out to him, he knew right away who she was, and not because of Bridget’s Little Mermaid story.

When whoever was filming the goddess and the group of immortals living with her, zoomed in on her impossible face, Turner’s breath caught in his throat. Ancient eyes in a youthful face that was so beautiful he could not look away.

There was a glow around her, and it was nothing like the halo artists depicted above angels’ heads. Every exposed part of her body seemed to emit a soft light.

He wondered whether it was safe for a human to be exposed to her. Had the men she’d seduced in order to have children died following the encounter?

Had it been worth it?

He had a feeling it had.

“The Clan Mother has this effect on people,” Edna whispered in his ear. “Even on us who are familiar with her. I’ve seen Annani countless times, and I’m still awed every time anew.”

Turner could do little other than nod in agreement. His eyes refused to leave the incredible sight.

“She can dim the effect when she wants,” Edna said. “Otherwise she could’ve never interacted with humans.”

“Is it dangerous to be near her? For a human?” Turner asked without looking at Edna.

“Not unless you anger her. She might look like love personified, but Annani has a temper, and she is impulsive.”

Curious to find out more, Turner finally forced his gaze away from the goddess and looked into Edna’s kind eyes. “Does she hurt those who anger her?”

Edna smiled. “She can give a verbal lashing like any other irate female with a diva complex. But nothing more dangerous than that. Annani is compassionate. Overly so, if you ask me. She never uses her power to do harm.”

Interesting.

The way the councilwoman talked about the goddess, openly and without fear, one would think she was gossiping about a beloved aunt. Edna had respect and genuine fondness for Annani, but she didn’t worship her as a deity, and she also didn’t hesitate to poke a bit of fun at the most powerful being on earth.

It spoke volumes about Annani’s character and made him even more eager to meet her. To have so much power and not abuse it required incredible strength, an unyielding moral code, and a clarity of purpose. It seemed as if her only flaw was a bit of a diva attitude, but in his opinion, she was wholly entitled to it.

Turner would’ve given away his entire life savings for an audience with Annani. Regrettably, there was no chance of her granting it unless he transitioned, and even then there was no guarantee she would.

“Good evening, everyone.” Bridget walked up to the podium, and everyone hushed.

Looking at her, no one would have suspected how anxious Bridget had been only moments before. The woman on the podium looked confident and professional.

He was so proud of her.

Bridget’s presentation lasted about forty-five minutes and went without a hitch. Her audience ate from the palm of her hand, responding exactly as she wanted them to.

Well, that remained to be seen. Until the voting was done, nothing was guaranteed.

Then the moment of truth arrived, and Turner watched with dread as only about a third of the clan supported the initiative. Bridget would be devastated.

Hell, she wouldn’t be the only one.

He’d been hoping to get the ball rolling before attempting his transition. If he died, he would check out peacefully knowing that he’d accomplished something important.

On the big screen, the goddess stood up and started clapping, and soon everyone was on their feet and clapping along.

The noise was deafening, but it was the best sound Turner had ever heard. Annani had backed their initiative, and the clan followed.

The clapping continued as Shai, Kian’s assistant, counted the votes.

“We have a unanimous vote,” he announced.

“Thank you, Shai,” Bridget said, trying to look professional and not show the tremendous relief she was feeling.

“I have one more item on my agenda for tonight.”

The room fell quiet, as did the other two, and people sat back down. She clicked her remote, and a slide with about a hundred names appeared on the screen behind her.

“I’m sure you recognize the names.” She pointed at the screen. “This is a list of every Guardian who's ever served. The first eighteen names are those who are currently active. Nine here at this keep, six in Scotland, and Annani’s three. That leaves seventy-six retirees.”

Snickers and backslaps resounded throughout the room, as those seated next to ex-Guardians laughed at the term.

He and Bridget had debated which one to use, vacillating between those that were more flattering, to those that sounded somewhat offensive. Eventually, they had settled on retirees as something in between.

“We need you,” Bridget continued once the noise settled down. “These girls need you. They need powerful men like you to be their champions, their heroes, to show them that there are men who are not like the ones who took them and abused them, and to show the world what a few good men can do.”

She paused, letting her words sink in.

“You have a chance to make a difference, to make the world a better place. Isn’t that why you joined the force in the first place?”

She looked at the people sitting in front of her and then turned to those on the two screens flanking the podium.

“We need our army back to protect the clan when needed and help those who no one else will help.”

She switched to the next PowerPoint presentation, showing slide after slide of the new village Kian had built for his people. “This beautiful place is remote and well protected, and yet close to all the amenities a big city like Los Angeles can provide. This is where you will be living.”

She smiled and lifted a hand. “Before all of you hurry to pack your suitcases, I want to remind you that Sari needs you as well and that some of the brothel raids are going to be happening in her territory. So please, talk among yourselves and decide who stays and who comes here.”

This was another tactic they’d discussed—assuming the win.

Bridget put back up the list of names. “I would love to get an answer from each one of you, either yea or nay, over the next several days. After that, I’m going to call those who are still facing difficulties leaving their current occupations and offer any help I can.”

Turning toward Annani’s screen, Bridget bowed. “Thank you, Clan Mother, for your support.” She then turned to the other screen and bowed again. “Sari, thank you for helping organize this event.” Lastly, she faced her live audience. “Everyone, thank you for your selfless support of this important cause. I’m proud to be a member of such an amazing family.” She put her hand over her heart. “My clan. My people.”

That last part hadn’t been rehearsed.

Bridget’s heartfelt gratitude was genuine, and everyone hearing it recognized it as such. The crowd erupted in applause, everyone present and those on the screens standing up as Bridget bowed again and then wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

Turner clapped until his palms stung. Well done, my lady, well done.