Tira headed straight for the altar, the white marble base topped by an oak slab six inches thick.
But when she got there, she stopped, unsure now what to do.
How to ask for what she wanted.
She’d gone over everything on the ride, talked through each point and debated each argument. But now her thoughts were all jumbled.
She knew what she wanted. But how should she actually beg a goddess—
“I find it’s best just to blurt it out. Less painful that way.”
Tira spun away from the altar and had fallen into a curtsy before her brain made the connection her body had already figured out.
“Lady of the Hammer, I didn’t know you were here.”
“I wasn’t until a second ago.” A blonde Barbie doll of a goddess, Nortia, Goddess of Fate, shook her shiny white-gold hair over her shoulder. Her curls bounced, her blue eyes shone and her perfect rosebud mouth curved in a smile. She looked like a twenty-something out for a night of clubbing in her short, purple leather miniskirt, tight white baby tee and four-inch metallic red Jimmy Choos.
Beautiful and wise, and still one of the most powerful Etruscan goddesses on Earth, Nortia was the only one who could help her.
“I heard your call.”
Tira frowned, the Lady’s words not making any sense. She hadn’t even begun to pray. “But… My call? I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
Nortia shrugged, her tiny pointed nose wrinkling prettily before her smile popped out again. “That’s okay. You don’t have to. Now you have a question to ask. Shoot.”
Tira froze, unable to actually say the words. How did she phrase it? How could she even ask? How could she avoid offending the Lady of the Hammer, whose Gift she’d been granted?
As the Goddess of Fate, Nortia could control certain aspects of the future. And Tira saw the future.
At this moment, she hated her Gift.
Nortia’s smile softened the goddess’s beauty until she seemed much more approachable.
“Tira, despite my reputation, I am not an unreasonable being.” Her nose wrinkled again. “At least, most of the time.” She sighed as if someone had contradicted her, which Tira would never do. “Okay, some of the time. And this is one of those times. I feel your despair. Just speak your mind.”
Bowing her head so she wouldn’t see Nortia’s anger, Tira took a deep breath. “I wa—would ask for three days, Lady. Three days without my Gift. Three days to be able to touch the men I love without the vision of Nic dying and Duke…”
Lost to her. Forever.
It was the one part of her vision she’d never revealed to anyone. The one part she refused to acknowledge because it hurt too much.
“Three days, Lady, without consequence. I don’t want anyone else to have to pay for my…weakness, to—”
“You believe your love for Duke and Nic is a weakness?” Nortia’s head cocked to the side, her eyes narrowing as if to see inside Tira.
Honestly? Yes, she did. If she’d never met them, she wouldn’t be in this situation. But she’d fallen for them, both of them and that meant double the heartache.
“Don’t you think love is a weakness, Lady?”
Nortia didn’t answer right away and Tira chanced a glance at the goddess. Nortia’s expression showed no sign of anger. Or any emotion, for that matter.
“I believe you believe. But I can’t give you three days, Tira. Not under the conditions you want. There are always consequences, always a price to pay for everything. Some you don’t mind paying. Others are more costly but the reward is more dear. And therefore worth the cost.”
Tira blinked away tears but refused to give up. Not yet. “Then allow only me to suffer any consequences.”
Nortia took a deep breath before releasing it on a sigh. Her cold expression melted into one full of compassion. And regret.
Tira braced herself for denial.
“One day,” Nortia said. “I can give you one day of release from your Gift. From sunrise this morning to sunrise tomorrow. And I agree to the terms. No one will suffer as a consequence. But the boschetta needs a praenuntio, Tira. The time is coming when one will be needed more than ever. After the day has ended, I want you to return here, to me. I want to know if you wish to cede your Gift forever.”
Her skin prickled, as if she stood naked in a cold wind. Everything froze inside her and she had to tell herself to breathe. Nortia’s demand shouldn’t come as a shock. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t considered herself.
But hearing it aloud made it too real.
Her lungs began to seize, unable to draw in enough air. Her head actually swam but she nodded, pushing away the fear and the uncertainty. Instead, she reached for the anticipation, the desire, the longing she felt at all times for Duke and Nic.
And felt a small measure of calm ease her unsteady nerves.
“Thank you, Lady.”
“Don’t, Tira. Not now. Not until all is said and done. Because I can assure you, nothing ever works out as we intend.”
With those cryptic words, Nortia disappeared.
Tira stood silently, waiting for something to happen. To feel differently. Some physical sense that her Gift was gone.
But she felt nothing like that. Only fear. Not that Nortia wouldn’t keep her end of the deal.
No, she feared she would want to give up her Gift tomorrow. And that would make her an even worse coward.
Chapter Seven
Nic couldn’t sleep when he got home.
Duke had headed to Kyle’s to check on Kaine and talk about what they were going to do next about the eteri kidnappings.
Yeah, it was only six in the morning but Kyle wouldn’t mind. He never got upset if they dropped in on him unannounced for whatever reason.
Besides, they knew better than to knock on Kyle’s door if he and Tam were getting it on. A lucani’s incredible sense of smell came in handy for avoiding awkward moments.
Of course, now Nic didn’t know what the hell to do with himself.
He had too much restless energy to sleep but he knew his body couldn’t take another run. He needed some downtime.
Catch-22.
So he paced. Then he threw himself on the couch and picked up the TV remote, forcefully avoiding thoughts of what he’d done the last time he’d sat here.
He flipped through three hundred channels. Kaine’s television addiction was legendary. God forbid she couldn’t watch her shows, however many there were.
He checked the DVR and found a couple of old MXC episodes. Typically the show’s crude, juvenile humor made him laugh. Not so much today.
With a disgusted sigh, he shut off the TV and turned on the satellite radio. Duke’s metal blasted through the six speakers in the open living space.
Definitely not in the mood for thrash or death metal. He’d be bouncing off the walls in no time.
No, he definitely needed some Sinatra.
He swore his pulse settled as the first few bars of New York, New York eased into the air. The man’s voice was pure solid gold.
With Frank taking care of his blood pressure, he figured he might as well do something constructive. He booted up his laptop, sat on the couch and started to run down the address of the house that had nearly killed him.
Before Tira had laid out his death sentence, he’d considered getting a degree in computers. He loved them, loved putting them together, loved coding. Computers were puzzles that had fascinated him since he’d begged his parents to get one when he was ten.
They’d relented after almost a year of constant begging. And when he’d shown an aptitude for it, they’d actually considered sending him to a private eteri school to study. That consideration had been turned down in seconds, though. Since you could never be sure when your change would come, and because preteen lucani males needed to expend a lot of excess energy, lucani children were all homeschooled. At least as far as the human government believed. In reality, the lucani who lived in the den attended classes together.