Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (292 page)

We had just spent a harrowing hour jumping off a boat, hiding under a dock in freezing salt water and running from a group of men who wanted God only knew what, and the one thing Roland zeroed in on was something I was not ready to talk about.

“I did do something. There are things I need to tell you about me and I promise I will soon… just not right now. Can you wait a few days?”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“I just need a few days and then I swear I’ll tell you and Peter everything. Besides, we’ve had enough excitement today, don’t you think?”

“Alright,” he conceded reluctantly. “But we are going to have a serious talk very soon. You have to stop keeping stuff to yourself like you did about your dad. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

“And no more running off like this. It’s just too dangerous.”

I didn’t reply at first and his tone grew more serious. “Sara?”

“I promise I’ll be more careful.”

He made a sound like he did not believe me. Then he surprised me by chuckling. “And as for having enough excitement today, I think you forgot one thing.”

I shot him a sideways glance. “What?”

Roland smirked as he looked straight ahead. “Him.”

I
felt
the Mohiri presence brush against my mind a second before I looked down the street to see Nikolas stalking toward us, his expression darker than the sky. Sucking up my courage, I braced myself for a lecture as we walked toward him. Whatever his honorable intentions, this was still my life. Eventually he would have to get that through his head – I hoped.

Whatever Nikolas planned to say was forgotten when he got close enough to take in our wet clothes and salty fishy odor. “What the hell happened this time?”

“We –”

“Nothing,” I said before Roland could answer.

Nikolas muttered something in another language that sounded like swearing. He shook his head then looked at Roland. “I’ll take her from here.”

“I don’t think so,” I sputtered and filled with dread at his look of determination.

Roland stepped forward. “I’m not sure that’s such a good –”

“Sara and I need to talk – just talk,” Nikolas told him, ignoring my protest. “And judging by the look on your face, I think you agree with me.”

I turned in disbelief to my friend. “Roland?”

Roland’s eyes were troubled when they met mine. “You won’t listen to me. Maybe it will be good for someone else to…”

“Traitor,” I accused, walking past them both. I couldn’t believe it; my best friend was siding with Nikolas – a werewolf siding with a Mohiri. If I wasn’t so upset I would have laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Sara, wait…”

I ignored Roland’s plea. The rain began in earnest and the wind picked up as if the storm was tethered to my mood. I was drenched all over again by the time I reached my building.

Peter was there in his mother’s car waiting for us. “What happened?” he called.

“I’m sure Roland will tell you all about it,” I replied sourly, heading straight for the stairs.

I contemplated locking the door behind me as I flicked on the light in the hallway but I had a feeling that a deadbolt would be no deterrence to Nikolas in his present mood. For a moment, I held onto the faint hope that the troll ward would keep him out but that hope was dashed when the door opened as I was kicking off my ruined Vans. I dropped my coat to the floor with a loud plop and moved to the stairs without bothering to look at him. “Make yourself at home,” I said in a voice that was anything but welcome.

Upstairs the storm was louder as the wind groaned around the eaves and rain battered the windows. I cracked a window and whistled for Harper who sometimes liked to ride out bad weather inside. There was no sign of the crow and I soon had to close the window to keep the rain out.

I heard shuffling and turned as Daisy hopped over the top of the stairs. Storms did not bother her but she always turned to me for company when Nate was gone. I rubbed her head and she trailed after me when I went to the bathroom to start water running in the tub. Nikolas’s talk would have to wait until after I had that nice hot bath I’d promised myself. If he wanted to chat he’d just have to cool his heels downstairs until I was ready.

I wriggled out of my wet jeans and reached into the front pocket for the vial of Ptellon blood, cupping it in my hand reverently. Everything that went down at the marina was worth it to secure Nate’s safety. We might not be as close as either of us would have wanted, but I’d do almost anything to protect him from the danger I had brought into our lives. I opened the bottom drawer in my bathroom vanity and stuck the vial in the very back to keep it safe until Nate got home. I only had to slip three drops of the blood red liquid into his food or drink every month and the vial held enough to last for at least a year. Between the wards and the Ptellon, Nate should be safe from almost anything supernatural at least. The Ptellon blood did not repel humans but it wasn’t humans I was worried about.

A happy moan escaped me when I sank into the hot water. I laid my head against the bath pillow and closed my eyes as the steaming soapy water soaked the grit and stench from my pores. My mind raced from what had happened at the marina. The men chasing us had been frightening but it was the encounter with the rats that really shook me. I’d never felt anything like that thing in the rat’s mind and I shivered in spite of the hot water. How was I able to push it out of the rat and then have the strength to affect a whole pack of rats at once? Was my power getting stronger? Nikolas had said that the Mohiri powers grew as they reached maturity. Maybe that’s what was happening to me. There was so much about my power that was still a mystery to me and I wished I had someone to explain it all to me.

I made myself relax and pushed the confusing thoughts aside. The constant drum of rain on the roof lulled me into a pleasant doze and I stayed there until the water began to cool. I let the water out and stood to wash my hair under the shower. Despite the last few hours and the unwelcome guest downstairs, I felt considerably lighter when I wrapped a large towel around me and walked into my bedroom.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” I shrieked at Nikolas who sat on my couch with my traitorous cat curled up beside him. My sketch pad lay open on his lap as he studied one of the drawings. My drawings were like my journal and there was something disturbingly intimate about him sitting in my private space looking at them. “Get out of my room and keep your hands off my things.”

He ignored my outburst, his gaze dark and unfathomable as he looked at me. “You took so long I thought you had tried to run off again.”

I pulled the towel tighter around me and tried to ignore the heat infusing my face. “Well, as you can see I am still here. Now do you mind leaving my room so I can get dressed?”

An infuriating smile played around the corners of his mouth and the room suddenly felt too warm. “Of course.” He laid the sketchbook on the couch and stood. “Your drawings are quite good. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I don’t show them to anyone. They’re
private
,” I said pointedly to remind him again that he was violating my personal space. Inside I felt a small flare of pleasure at the praise but I would never let him know that.

He looked entirely unapologetic for the intrusion as he walked unhurriedly to the stairs. “I’ll see you downstairs shortly.”

Fuming, I went to the couch to close the sketchbook and stopped just short of reaching for it when I saw Nikolas’s face looking up at me. I felt the familiar stab of fear I experienced every time I remembered that night in Portland. I don’t write down my feelings in a journal, I draw them and for some reason this image was the one that stood out most in my memory from that night. Maybe because it was the moment I knew I was not alone. It made me feel open and vulnerable having someone else look at it, especially Nikolas.

I took my time getting dressed and I planned to take overly long to dry my hair to avoid facing him as long as possible. The storm had other ideas, however, and the power went out just as I picked up my hair dryer. “Great!” I muttered, groping for a flashlight. I grabbed a towel to dry my hair as best I could and then, unable to delay any longer, made my way downstairs with Daisy close at my heels.

I found Nikolas in the kitchen making sandwiches by candlelight with his sleeves pulled up and his leather jacket thrown over the back of a chair. The casual, domestic picture was such a contrast to the image of the warrior I was used to, that I stopped short and Daisy ran into the back of my legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Dinner. I would have ordered in but it looks like power is out all over town. So sandwiches it is.” He slid a plate across the counter toward me. “Hope you like roast beef.”

“Um thanks… I do.” I mumbled, trying to figure out what he was up to. One minute he was furious and the next he was making me dinner. If he thought he could throw me off guard by being nice to me all of a sudden – he was right. I had no idea how to respond to this new side of him. To hide my discomfort I grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry and a bottle of dill pickles from the fridge, laying them both on the table with two glasses of soda.

Nikolas carried our sandwiches to the table and placed the pillar candle in the center. I chewed my bottom lip and tucked my damp hair nervously behind my ear when it struck me what a cozy picture we made, eating by candlelight while a storm howled outside. I peeked at Nikolas who seemed quite at ease, piling chips on his plate as if we ate together like this everyday. His hair was still damp from the rain and his features were relaxed, almost like he was enjoying himself. He looked up and his eyes were like liquid smoke in the candlelight when they met mine. My stomach did a little leap and I immediately found my own sandwich fascinating.

The sandwich was just how I liked mine: roast beef, cheese, and horseradish sauce on rye. I almost asked him how he knew what my favorite was but I refrained. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how much he knew about me.

We ate in silence for a minute before he asked the question I knew was coming. “You want to tell me where you disappeared to today and why you came back smelling like you went for a swim in the bay?”

I stopped nibbling a chip to say, “It was personal business I had to take care of… and I did go for a swim in the bay. Satisfied?”

“Not even close.”

There was another silence as I picked up my sandwich and bit into it, refusing to expand upon my story. I felt Nikolas’s gaze but I pretended to ignore him. It was going to take a lot more than a candlelight dinner to make me spill.

It took me a few minutes to realize the scolding I was expecting was not coming and I glanced at Nikolas to find him enjoying his meal. Where was the man who had practically shot daggers at me out on the waterfront less than hour ago?

“Aren’t you going to yell at me or something?”

He shrugged without looking up from his sandwich. “Will it make you tell me what you were doing today?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t we just have a pleasant meal instead?”

I scowled at him, not sure what to make of his answer. Was he trying to trick me into telling him the truth? He shows up looking like he’s about to bring the wrath of God down on me and then he makes me dinner and wants to exchange pleasantries. Did I just step into a Twilight Zone episode?

His next words surprised me even more. “You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago. She was stubborn to a fault too.”

“If you say it was Madeline, I’m going to throw my pickle at you.” There was no way I was anything like the woman who gave birth to me. She was my biological mother but that was where the connection ended.

Nikolas smiled and his eyes had an almost faraway look. “Not Madeline, no. Her name was Elena and she was actually Madeline’s aunt though she died before Madeline was born.”

“Was she your girlfriend or something?” I asked, surprised by the fondness in his voice. Before tonight, I’d thought of Nikolas only as a warrior, all business and no time for a personal life. But I guess he had to have some kind of life outside of hunting vampires. My Mori stirred and an alien feeling twisted my gut. Was that jealousy? I gave a mental shake to let the demon know that we didn’t give a fig about Nikolas’s romantic involvements.

“No, Elena was like a sister to me. She was beautiful, but willful and very spoiled.”

“Are you calling me spoiled?” Typical male. A strong man is just fine but let a woman show some free will and she is spoiled.

He laughed and took a drink from his glass without answering. I glared at him and his grin grew. “Okay, maybe not spoiled but definitely obstinate.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” I picked up my own glass. “What happened to her?”

His expression darkened. “She ignored the rules that were there to protect her and went off by herself alone. She was killed by vampires.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, I’m sorry.” That might explain his overprotective ways toward me. His friend died at the hands of a vampire and here I was being pursued by one.

“It was a long time ago.”

“So is any of Madeline’s family left?” I asked in an effort to change the topic.

It was the first time I’d expressed any interest in possible Mohiri relations and Nikolas smiled in response. “She still has some living relatives; her sire for one.”

“Sire? That sounds so… impersonal.” I thought of my dad, the way he would catch me up in a big hug and read to me before bed. I could not imagine thinking of him as my sire.

Nikolas laid his napkin across his plate and leaned back in his chair. “It is just a title. Mohiri families are as close as human families, maybe more so since we do not grow old and die naturally.”

“So you and your parents all look the same age? Don’t you find that weird?”

He shook his head. “We don’t think of age the same way mortals do. Humans see it as a way to mark one’s passage through life. Physically, we don’t age once we reach maturity.”

He might find it normal but I found it hard to imagine being the same age as my grandparents. Ugh. “So my grand… Madeline’s father is still alive. Does he know about me?” It was a bit of a shock to learn I had a living grandparent I’d never met. My dad’s mother died when I was ten and I never really knew her that well.

“Yes and he is looking forward to meeting you.” My hesitation must have shown on my face because Nikolas caught my gaze and held it. “He will wait until you are ready to meet him.”

“A patient Mohiri; who would have thought it.” I got up and carried our plates to the sink to hide my suddenly conflicted feelings. I had no intention of going to the Mohiri any time soon, but the knowledge that I had a grandfather – even if he was Madeline’s father – out there who wanted to see me caused emotions I did not want to think about.

“A Mohiri has all the patience in the world when something is worth waiting for,” he replied and I got the feeling we were no longer talking about my grandfather.

I started running hot water over the plates. “I guess it helps that you guys are immortal, huh?”

“So are you,” he said close to my ear and I almost dropped the plate in my hand.

“Don’t do that!” I choked and he laughed softly. He took the plate from me and began to dry it with a dish towel.
Does he have to stand so close?
I griped as I rinsed the other plate and handed it to him. Something in his manner told me he was doing it just to irk me and he was enjoying himself immensely. I found myself wishing the old Nikolas was here. I knew what to expect from him; this new Nikolas was too confusing by far.