I popped the popcorn and made myself a triple decaf caramel latte. By the time the kitchen was clean and the cookies were done, we were ready for our binge-fest. We had recorded four episodes of English Gardens Explored—one of our favorite shows—and we curled up on the sofa with our goodies and dove into watching.
As the light outside faded into dusk, we tried not to think about the vrykos. Tomorrow was Lughnasadh—the first of August—and Marilee was set to lead the ritual. We would celebrate the season of sacrifice, and hopefully wouldn’t be interrupted by dragons and undead and all the things that were currently going bump in the night.
Mr. Rumblebutt joined us on the sofa, and I pulled him on my lap, burying my face in his fur. He purred up a storm as I petted him, and once again—even though I tried not to dwell—my thoughts turned toward the future. Could Mr. Rumblebutt become a god, too? Could cats become immortal? And what about best friends who were human?
With a score of unanswered questions on my mind, I brought my attention back to the show and lost myself in a garden filled with wildflowers and ferns, enjoying the sedate pace of the narrator’s voice as a village filled with flowers soothed my frayed nerves.
When I woke the next morning, the day was partially overcast, with a loose layer of clouds patchworking the skies. I rolled out of bed and, grabbing my robe, headed for the shower. I could smell cooking coming from downstairs. Angel usually woke earlier than I did and she almost always made breakfast because she loved to cook.
I lathered up, then stood beneath the shower of water, closing my eyes. The energy coiled around me like an old friend. My mother’s blood made me half Leannan Sidhe—the Light Fae side—and so I was intimately connected with the water and Mother Ocean.
The waves called to me, the sirens on their mist-shrouded rocks, the naiads in their grottoes by the lakes, and the undines, guarding the rivers—all of these were deeply rooted in my nature. The Leannan Sidhe were among the most predatory of the Water Fae. I could charm men and women, bringing them into my control. If I wanted to, I could suck the life out of a man, draining his chi—his breath—even as he swore to love me forever.
For a long time I had never known the specifics on my heritage, but when I joined the Wild Hunt, Morgana—Herne’s mother—had claimed me as one of her own, as my mother had been. She was goddess of the Fae, and goddess of the Sea, and she helped me understand why I had to embrace my blood, even though both sides were predatory and dangerous. So I was learning to accept who I was, and to use the powers I had been born with.
Now, I soaked up the energy of the shower, of the water streaming over my body as it ran down my skin, pooling in droplets on my breasts, trickling over the gentle curve of my stomach. I had a lot of scars that interrupted the smooth stretches, but they were visible reminders of the battles that had helped make me who I was.
Finally, I stepped out of the shower and toweled off. I sat at my vanity, staring in the mirror as I pulled out my blow dryer. My hair was getting long—it was nearly to the middle of my back now—and it was as dark as a moonless night. My eyes were brilliant green, and as I flexed, my muscles were definitely apparent. I had big boobs and curving hips, all with a soft layer of padding. I would never be called “slender,” but I didn’t care. I was fit, happy, and healthy, and that’s what mattered.
Finally, shaking myself out of my thoughts, I dried my hair, pulled it back in a ponytail, and put on my makeup. Finally, I dressed in a nice pair of black jeans, a pale green tank top over a sturdy but sexy bra, and a pair of ankle boots. Low heeled—about two inches—they were easy to run in, if need be.
Fastening my crow necklace around my throat that marked me as belonging to Morgana, I glanced down at my newest tattoo. A few weeks back, I’d had the same crow inked on my right upper arm to honor Morgana.
Before I headed downstairs, I paused at my nightstand. I opened the drawer and pulled out a