Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9 Read online

  “Who are we talking about, Aphrodite?” I asked, focusing back on the matter at hand. Maybe Aphrodite’s presence was sending us into some sort of collective mind space of fornication—a power of hers that encouraged groups to fully experience the joys of sex from every possible angle and perspective. I had to admit, it was probably something I could accomplish with my own magic, if I really set my mind to it. A temporary shared mental scape that would allow me to not only feel the sensations of my own body from a lover, but to layer in his sensations of what my body was doing to him. I realized I felt a little dizzy at the concept, and that I was smiling absently. I shook my head, firmly, and took a calming breath as I admitted a universal truth.

  Callie’s beaver needed to start a war with the EPA by building the goddamned mother of all dams. Or the world would burn if I didn’t get laid. Soon.

  “Zeus,” Ryuu said in a grim tone. “You are saying he is a Master?”

  Aphrodite hesitated, looking frustrated. “I honestly do not know. Whatever he is might be just as bad. Or worse.” She took another bite of the cheese, looking troubled. “Perhaps it is more accurate to say that the first shots of the Omega War are coming sooner than we anticipated. If those shots work as intended, there may not be an Omega war. Or, better put, the Omega War will be hopeless.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, closely watching her eyes for any sign of bluffing or deceit. Aphrodite had helped me in the past, but she had also explicitly said not to trust any Olympians. She herself was an Olympian.

  “You must start gathering your forces. Take off the masks. Find out who is whom.”

  “The Masters,” I breathed. “You really are talking about the Masters. It wasn’t hyperbole.”

  “Yes,” she said, meeting my eyes. “You, Master Dracula,” she said, enunciating the title that I had acquired with my new job, “need to entrench yourself and find out who they really are. Any of them. Hell, simply find out who are not Masters. And then you need to start crafting weapons as fast as your forges can make them. Darling and Dear are already waiting at Castle Dracula to assist you. It is time to fire up the furnaces of Eternal Metal.”

  I eyed her up and down, trying not to panic. “What if you are one of the Masters?” I asked, not wanting to talk about the Eternal Metal at Castle Dracula. Supposedly, I needed a very specific type of blacksmith to do as she suggested. Mine had been killed during my takeover of Dracula’s stronghold. The Eternal Metal was somehow fused into my very body, giving me the ability to call up the Silver claws. I’d hypothesized that it also had something to do with my bloodline as an ancestor of King Solomon and our ability to trap demons. I glanced down at the Seal of Solomon on my thumb, frowning, pensively. Had my mother known all along that I would take Castle Dracula for myself? That I needed to in order to have a chance at surviving the Omega War?

  Aphrodite opened her mouth to argue and then let it click shut. “To be completely transparent, I can’t honestly say whether I am one or not. What deals and agreements have I made and to whom? What if I sold my soul to them long ago and don’t even know it? I am talking to one right now, after all. For all I know, you received a welcome kit and a letterman’s jacket. Maybe the Masters are the good guys in the story and our perception is entirely wrong. I simply don’t know anymore,” she hissed, sounding on the verge of tears. “That is what is so insidious about all of this. Old lines, alliances, blood feuds…they are all being rewritten. Some are working for these Masters and don’t even know it.”

  I nodded, knowingly. I didn’t take offense at her hypothetical of me being part of the club. I had similar doubts and concerns. “Well, you’re a goddess. Do something goddess-like.”

  She scoffed. “I think…gods are part of the problem. We might be the entire problem. I believe we need the new Horsemen—and you guys really need to come up with a better name, for what it’s worth. New and Old Horsemen is going to get very confusing in the days ahead. Especially if you’re pitted against each other.” My brief smirk of agreement shattered at the thought of warring with the Biblical Four Horsemen. “I think this is part of what makes Nate so special. He is the Catalyst. He has already killed an Olympian and an Asgardian. What if…all gods are part of the Masters? What if we, by trying to be the good guys, are being played? Who the hell even came up with the term, Masters?”

  I bit my tongue, deciding that I really didn’t want to let her know that Nate Temple’s ancestor had founded the alleged Masters club centuries ago. “Well, I literally have beef with both Heaven and Hell right now,” I reminded her. “Olympus and Asgard sounds like a Nate problem.”

  Aphrodite shook her head solemnly. “Don’t underestimate yourself, and don’t overestimate Nate Temple. He will need allies of his own. He is only one man…” she sighed. “For him, it might already be too late,” she added in a soft whisper. “Carnage begets Carnage…” she breathed so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What do you know, Aphrodite? What is going on? Where is Nate? I knew he was in trouble last time we spoke, but you made it sound like he was relatively safe for the time being. What has changed?”

  Her lips clamped shut and her eyes grew misty. “I…cannot say,” she croaked, sounding miserable. “Literally. I don’t know how I managed to say as much as I already have.”

  Ryuu cleared his throat. “I’ve been warding us, but it’s fading rapidly, as if it’s being shredded apart by acid.” I turned to him with a frown, only now noticing the sweat beaded on his forehead and the fact that his jaw was clenched so hard it looked like he might crack a tooth. His hands were balled up in fists and they were shaking. No wonder he hadn’t been participating in our discussion.

  Aphrodite dipped her head in gratitude. “Thank you for that, D—” she cut off abruptly, and her eyes widened nervously, as if afraid Ryuu might kill her for the slip up. “Thank you, Ryuu,” she said, instead.

  He dipped his chin in a jerking motion, obviously preoccupied with his ward. What name had she been about to use? Did I know any Asian myths that featured a murderous ninja with a name starting with the letter D?

  My mind wandered with hastily made-up options. Dave the Unbearable. Daryl the Stoic. Donald the Great. Dennis the Menace.

  “Heed the call, Horseman,” Aphrodite said, interrupting my mental rolodex. “No matter what, heed the call. Even if you are in the middle of executing your foe, saving your father’s life, rescuing a child…” She leaned closer to me, staring straight into my eyes and pinning me in place. “Heed. The. Call.”

  I swallowed under the intensity of her gaze.

  Aphrodite cocked her head as Ryuu let out an exhausted sigh. She pursed her lips, glancing left and right, and then she let out a Greek curse that I couldn’t translate. Her tone told me the gist of it. Before I could even open my mouth, she winked out of existence.

  I spun to Ryuu to see that he looked pale and exhausted. Which, for Ryuu, was saying a hell of a lot. I had never once seen him tired. It almost made him look like he was on the verge of death in comparison to his usual endless endurance and stamina. He licked his lips and I realized they were parched. I scooted closer and lifted my water bottle to his mouth, forcing him to drink or drown. He guzzled the water and I couldn’t help but stare at his lips and tongue, realizing that I held the back of his head with one hand and that my chest was pressed against his shoulder. His arms shook weakly, struggling to even hold himself upright.

  “What the hell were you up to, Ryuu?” I whispered, wondering why Aphrodite had fled so abruptly even though there was obviously no threat in the park. Ryuu would have been on his feet—no matter how tired—if there was any immediate danger. Even if it killed him. Or he would demand that I Shadow Walk us away if he couldn’t stand.

  He met my eyes, swallowing the last of the water. I lowered the bottle and cupped the side of his cheek, brushing my thumb against his stubble. His dark eyes were deep and dreamy to me, even though they frightened most everyone else.


  “I was protecting us from her family,” he said, eyeing the sky. “We probably shouldn’t talk openly about who we shared breakfast with, and who she might be related to. In fact, we should probably pretend none of that ever happened until we are absolutely certain of our privacy. None of those topics are open for discussion any longer. The only St. Louis friend I want to hear about is Alucard, because he is your vampire.”

  I nodded nervously. “Okay…Daryl,” I said, taking a stab at his secret name.

  He blinked, looking momentarily confused. Then it dawned on him and he grunted, shaking his head. His eyes drifted from mine, hesitated on my jawline—arresting my breath for a moment—and then shifted to the blankets. I composed myself by lowering my hand and followed his gaze to the dusty bottle he’d brought along with the blanket, cheese and crackers. “Sake?” he asked in a hoarse tone.

  “It’s nine in the morning.”

  Silence stretched between us. “Sake?” he repeated.

  I nodded, staring at the bottle. “Sake.”

  5

  I sat on the blanket, leaning my back against the tree stump, considering my eventful morning. Our earlier training had been exhausting, but the surprise cameos from Aphrodite and Lust had left me feeling wrung out and hung to dry. And not in the fun way. My muscles were sore, my once white training garb was now missing a button and was also scuffed and stained from grass or dirt where Ryuu had flipped me down to the ground or pinned me after grappling. I had sweated so much that my hair was damp at the temples and plastered to my neck.

  Yet all I could think about was the equally sweaty warrior sitting in front of me. Ryuu was fumbling inside his duffel bag, giving me a rare moment to study his muscular, handsome frame unobserved—a rare delight, because the man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, always catching me at the most damnable moments. Like when I was trying to get my gawking on. I recalled the more pleasant moments from our morning’s adventures—his body pressing me to the ground as we vied for control and dominance.

  When training with him, he pulled exactly no punches, hitting me as hard as he would have hit any man. He didn’t treat me like a dainty little flower. He treated me like I needed to be treated—as a student. None of the bowing and scraping and apologizing I got from almost everyone else, and none of the little jokes and teasing I got from those closest to me—like Cain or Claire.

  When the practice swords came out, we were master and student. Period. And his only goal was to whittle away at me until I became the most dangerous and beautiful possible form of myself. One who could protect herself in absolutely any situation. He didn’t care that I had magic and that I might not need to be a master swordsman. His belief system was to pretend that every individual weapon at one’s disposal was the only weapon at one’s disposal. So, he treated me like my only source of protection was the sword.

  Then, when the sword failed, he trained me how to use my body as a deadly weapon.

  His devotion to that simple philosophy was strangely endearing. He treated his cherished black katana—the Angel Killer, as I’d heard it called—as if it were his lover. Murmuring to it when he checked it each night for nicks or burrs—of which there were never any, since it was a supremely powerful magical artifact. I didn’t quite know what his sword was or what it represented, but it was obviously powerful enough to make an Archangel and Archdemon hesitate. Still, every night before going to bed, he spent a few moments speaking to, or perhaps praying over, his dark blade. Wiping it with a soft cloth before silently slipping it back into its sheath.

  With the same affection one might use to tuck a child into their covers at night after reading them a bedtime story.

  As much as I wanted to know the story behind his blade, and the story behind him, it wasn’t the right time. It almost felt like such a scenario was akin to meeting his mother and father, and that was not something a girl took lightly when…

  I blushed slightly. We weren’t officially dating. As much as we both wanted to, there were a few things I knew I had to do before I made a move or encouraged him to make one.

  That whole Nate Temple chestnut. We’d been dancing around a relationship for about a bajillion figurative years, sharing nothing more than a lone kiss and a few exhausted naps. Every time we’d attempted to try more, some big nasty monster had interrupted our plans, keeping us apart and delaying our chances at a relationship.

  In that spell of romantic tension, I’d finally come to terms with the fact that I had moved on past Nate. He was an amazing man, but I was no longer sure he was the right man for me. But I needed to break that news to him, directly, before I entertained any romance with Ryuu. And now Aphrodite was warning us that Nate was to be executed tomorrow, putting me in a position where I had to choose between St. Louis and Kansas City—between helping my friend, Nate, and protecting the innocents of my home. Without any specific details, of course. Where was the fun in that? This newsflash from Aphrodite combined with Gunnar’s gravelly call waking me up from a dead sleep this morning to tell me that Hermes was helping in the search for Nate and that he wanted me to come to St. Louis to help. Grouchy from being woken up, I’d told him I was busy with problems of my own so I couldn’t make any promises. Now, knowing that Nate was scheduled for execution…I felt like a cold-hearted bitch. Things had obviously deteriorated since Gunnar’s call.

  Especially when considering Aphrodite’s other comments to me. Her warning to fire up the forges at Castle Dracula and work with Darling and Dear to make enchanted weapons and armor was just the cherry on top. Especially since I had no capable blacksmith to handle the mysterious metal.

  And the remaining Sins were a very serious problem, as confirmed by Lust’s interruption this morning. They had not heard from Wrath and didn’t know what had happened to Pride. Wrath, for whatever reason, had not informed his fellow Sins about me rescuing the two missing Divines—the White Tiger and the Vermillion Bird—from Purgatory. Or that my trip to the cursed, soul-sucking place had allowed me to accidentally combine Archangel Michael and Archdemon Lucifer—Pride—into one sentient being named Lucky. An Anghellian, whatever that was. It seemed no one had been informed that angels, demons, and their graces had been trisected at some point and the three parts banished to each of the three Christian realms: Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory.

  But what did that mean? Lucky was no longer an angel or a demon. In fact, he seemed entirely human but with two spectral sidekicks he could summon up that absolutely knew how to open cans of whoop-ass on Archangels and Archdemons alike.

  So, was Lucky more powerful than the Sins and the Archangels? Or was he as frail as a human?

  Wrath had also not told anyone about him working with Archangel Gabriel, which was very concerning. Was Wrath turning a new leaf or was Gabriel breaking bad? In summation, I had a lot on my plate without having to worry about Nate or the Olympians and the precursor to the Omega War.

  I wasn’t going to be the one to tell anyone, or anything, about Lucky until I had some solid answers.

  Which meant I couldn’t hand over Pride. Because he no longer existed.

  The rescued Divines, Zoe and Bai were recovering from their centuries-long banishment in Purgatory, and it was more than likely that their mental fortitude, possibly even their sanity, was about as reliable as carrying water with cheese cloth. Or Swiss cheese.

  Yet both Heaven and Hell equally feared the dangers of the Four Divines uniting together. No one would tell me why.

  My godparents, Samael and Lilith, were now betrothed and itching to get hitched. In the past, my mother had worked with them, encouraging them to form a Trinity with two of the Divines each.

  Samael with the Black Tortoise and Azure dragon, Xuanwu and Qinglong.

  Lilith with the White Tiger and Vermillion Bird, Zoe and Bai. In an effort to protect them, Lilith had seen fit to hide them in Purgatory where no Archangel or Archdemon could hunt them down. Risking their very souls and sanity had been a better alternative than handing them
over, which gave me a good estimation of exactly how dangerous they just might be, even though I knew no specifics. I was really getting sick and tired of the consistent shoulder shrug responses to the ridiculous number of vitally important developments.

  Now that they were saved, I was hoping someone would start shedding some light on the topic, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I would find my own answers. King Solomon, my ancestor, had libraries and libraries and libraries of books. He had to know something. That was my next stop today—to get answers on the Four Divines, the Seven Sins, the Seven Archangels, and the one Anghellian cocktail I’d made with Lucifer, Michael, and their shared grace I’d inadvertently saved from Purgatory.

  Now, it seemed Lust intended to make my life difficult. Maybe Lucky would have some helpful information on his dysfunctional Brady Bunch of a family.

  Ryuu poured the sake into the two cups he’d scrounged up from his duffel bag and held one out to me. I accepted it with a forced sigh, commanding myself to relax rather than continue stressing myself out. I lifted the cup between us in a nonverbal cheers, but neither of us took a drink. The cup was warm, and I found myself smiling at the preparation it must have required. He had smuggled it here in a thermal blanket of some kind to keep it warm.

  He let out a sigh and stretched his legs out, leaning his back against the stump almost directly beside mine. Ryuu unfastened the top buttons of his jacket and fanned his neck in a cooling gesture. I frowned, remembering I had broken one of my own and that my jacket was now crookedly closed in addition to being dirty and grass stained. Thanks to Aphrodite’s persuasive fog. The jacket felt like it was trying to choke me, and a small breeze of amazingly refreshing air caressed my exposed flesh in such a way that I almost groaned in ecstasy.