Page 16 of Holy Shift (New Orleans Nocturnes #8)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Why are you doing this?” Destiny struggled against the heavy chains securing her wrists. Another set of chains attached the cuff on her ankle to the concrete wall behind her.

“With Pete trapped in the earthly realm, I can finally take what’s rightfully mine.” Helga waddled toward the person chained to the opposite wall in their makeshift prison. Long, matted hair, the color of dishwater, covered the woman’s face as her head hung toward her chest.

“Do you mean Easter?” Destiny twisted her wrists, trying to collapse her hand enough to slide it out of the bind, but the more she struggled, the tighter it got. A painful ache spread from her hands up to her shoulders, her chained leg mimicking the sensation up to her kneecap.

“If so, you didn’t have to destroy my bakery. He can’t even remember who he is, much less how to cross realms. He’s trapped here because of me.”

“I know that,” Helga snapped. “You did me a favor, and it’s the only reason I haven’t drained you dry yet. Your time is coming.”

The goose honk-laughed. “But this one…”

She used a wing to lift the woman’s head. As her hair fell away from her face, Destiny gasped. The goddess of spring, once glowing with youth and vitality, now held an ashy pallor with sunken cheeks, the light in her lavender eyes nearly extinguished.

“Once the realms see what I, the golden goose, can do with Easter, Frigg will have no choice but to make me a goddess. I’ll drain this sad excuse for a deity dry, absorb the rest of her power, and take her seat in the hierarchy.”

Helga turned Eostre’s head from side to side before letting her chin fall against her chest. “I should have been Frigg’s choice, not you.” She stretched her neck forward and flapped her wings, letting out a honk loud enough to wake every vampire in New Orleans.

“I’m better than you. I always have been.” She ruffled her feathers before folding her wings against her body.

So, this was the act of hubris from the prophecy. But Easter was Eostre’s holiday, and Pete was the one she’d chosen to carry it out. From what the goddess had told them, even if Helga delivered goose eggs around the world, it wouldn’t matter.

“It won’t work.” Destiny scooted toward the wall, leaning her weary body against it. Her head spun as if she’d been drugged, so she rested it against the concrete. “The fae pantheon will become unbalanced, and even if Frigg makes you a goddess, the seconds it will take for you to fill the seat are all the angels will need to swoop in and claim the realm as their own.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Helga squawked. “You don’t think I’ve thought it all through? I know what I’m doing better than some defective angel who’s been living on a wing and a prayer.”

Defective. If that didn’t describe Destiny to a T, she didn’t know what else could. Coming from a rabid, arrogant goose, the word shouldn’t have stung. Helga’s opinion of her shouldn’t have mattered in the slightest, but “shouldn’t” didn’t stop it from burrowing into her chest and stabbing her right in the heart.

“She’s not defective,” Eostre rasped. “She’s…” The goddess sucked in a pained breath.

“Save it for the Valkyries.” Helga sneered and waddled toward the darkened hall. “Oh, wait. You’re dying in prison, not in battle. I’m sure Hel will be happy to hear all about it.”

“Where are you going?” Destiny asked.

“To crack the whip on my elfen. Someone’s got to keep them in line.” She honked, ruffled her feathers, and waddled away, humming the tune of “Here Comes Peter Cottontail.”

“Are you okay?” Destiny scrambled to her feet, her knees nearly buckling beneath her as she stood. “Why do I feel so drained?”

“It’s the iron chains. Fae are allergic to the metal.” Eostre lifted her head, leaning it back against the wall. “I’m sure she enchanted them to hold an angel as well.”

“But my magic is bound.”

The goddess shrugged, wincing with the movement. “I’m afraid she’s gotten help from multiple magical beings. I sensed witchcraft in addition to vampirism, and…” Her lids fluttered. It obviously pained her to talk, but Destiny had so many questions, she couldn’t help but ask them.

“Is that how she trapped you? With witchcraft?”

“No.” Eostre opened her eyes, forcing a sardonic laugh. “She trapped me with trust and my own gullibility. I truly believed she meant to help, to mend our burned bridges. She brought me here under false pretenses and stabbed me with an iron stake. Shock stunned me, and she chained me in my moment of inaction.”

“What a bitch.” Destiny gasped and covered her mouth, a knee-jerk reaction to the unangelic phrases that had been escaping her lips lately, but honestly…? Who cared at this point? She wouldn’t be able to call herself an angel much longer.

Eostre laughed and winced. “What a bitch, indeed.”

Destiny pushed from the wall and moved as close to the goddess as her chains would allow before sinking to all fours. “We need to find a way out of here.”

Eostre coughed. “Look at me. The longer I’m in the earthly realm, the weaker I become. These chains…and this.” She angled her head, exposing the goose-sized bit mark on her neck. “She’s absorbing my power. I’m afraid I’m useless.”

“No, that’s not true. You’re a goddess.”

“Even the gods can’t reign forever. Haven’t you heard of Ragnarok? We will be defeated, all the gods killed. It has been foretold.”

“But that’s just a…”

“Myth?” She scoffed. “Perhaps you’ve been in the earthly realm too long. The people here so easily dismiss other pantheons as myth when the stories and teachings don’t align with their current views.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” Destiny pursed her lips.

“There’s no need to apologize. Ragnarok is coming. Your people will defeat us.”

“My people? I know angels believe your realm is rightfully theirs and they’re ready to take it the second y’all lose balance, but it’s giants who are supposed to kill you.” At least according to the stories she’d heard.

“That part really is a myth, an alteration of the tale made by earthly beings to relieve their current belief system from blame.”

“Well, that…sounds exactly like something people here would do.” Destiny sighed, the weight of her drooping shoulders nearly collapsing her. “But it’s not going to happen on my watch. Angels and fae aren’t so different, you know. I’ll figure out a way for us all to get along, but first, you and I have to get out of here.”

Destiny sat back on her heels. “I know you’re weak, but surely you can still reach out to the ether and send a message.”

“I’ve tried. We’re inside an iron mine. My fae magic can’t break through.” She tilted her head. “But perhaps you…”

Destiny shrugged. “I’ve been unplugged. I don’t have an ounce of angel left unbound.”

Eostre lifted her chin, a hint of the regal goddess she was peeking through her pain. “Try.”

“I have, back home. I can’t even get static.”

“Your situation is much more dire. Try again.”

She was tempted to tell the goddess it was pointless, but for some strange reason, she felt the need to appease her. Well, okay, the reason wasn’t strange. Destiny had always been a people pleaser, but this felt different, like an order she was meant to obey. Whatever enchantment Helga used on the chains was probably making her cuckoo but whatever.

She extended her fingers, pressing her palms together and closing her eyes, trying with all her might to grab a thread of the ether. She might as well have heard ding, dong, ding, the number you dialed is no longer in service because she got absolutely nothing.

She dropped her hands into her lap. “Blocked. Unplugged. Disconnected. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s try together.” Eostre moved so quickly, Destiny fell backward onto her butt. The goddess reached out, but her chains stopped her from grasping Destiny’s hands. “Please.”

“Okay, but I don’t think any angels are going to come to our aid. They’re done with me.” She scooted toward her, lying on her stomach and stretching her arms forward. Eostre did the same, both of them lying prone and reaching until their fingers touched.

“We don’t need angels. Use what little magic I have left to find Pete. He’s looking for you. I’m certain of it.”

Destiny’s fingers tingled where Eostre touched them. The sensation spread up her hands, the pins and needles reminding her of times when her foot fell asleep. It continued up her arm, lessening in intensity the closer it got to her chest.

The magic wasn’t much, but she would use every bit of it to find her fae.

Eostre nodded, and Destiny closed her eyes, focusing on an image of the man she… Loved? Had she fallen in love with the Easter Bunny?

Why not? Stranger things had happened.

“Focus, my child.” Eostre sent a pulse of magic into her. It rolled up her arms and expanded in her chest, making her gasp.

“Pete.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “We need you. We’re in an iron mine. Please find us.”

Her chest heated, creating a series of pops like her heart had turned to bubble wrap and someone was squeezing it. A spark of magic unfurled in the core of her being, but it died as quickly as it had formed.

Frigging Gabriela. She probably had a slew of interns sitting at monitors, wearing their stupid headphones, talking to each other with their stupid little microphones, and watching Destiny’s every move. Hopefully that nanosecond flash of magic was enough to alert Pete.

If not…she couldn’t even think about the alternative.

“Tell me what you felt,” Eostre rasped and folded her arms, resting her chin atop her hands.

Destiny described the popping and unfurling. “But my boss squelched it half a second after it happened. I’m sure she’s got the champagne on ice, ready to celebrate my ultimate failure. Ugh.”

She rested her chin on her hands, mimicking Eostre’s posture. “I feel even worse now.”

The goddess’s eyes held sympathy. “Iron has that effect on the fae.”

“Then remind me not to channel faery magic in an iron mine again.” Destiny closed her eyes. Maybe if she took a ten-minute power nap, she could shake the weariness from her body and find a way out on her own.

But her racing mind wouldn’t allow it. “What did Helga mean when she said she should have been Frigg’s choice? I thought you were the one who chose who would be the Easter Bunny.”

Eostre’s lips twitched. She pressed them into a line, rolling them inward as if trying to stop herself from speaking.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” Destiny pushed herself up and sat cross-legged. “Whatever beef you have with the golden vampire goose is your business.”

“If you apologize again, I’ll clip your wings myself.” The goddess winked and sat upright.

“Sorry. Force of habit. I mean…” Her cheeks heated.

Eostre laughed. “The curse of a people pleaser is a hard one to break.”

“No kidding.”

“You’re right. I did choose Pete to be the Easter Bunny.” She gingerly touched the bite mark on her neck. “Helga was referring to Frigg’s choice for a daughter.”

“Choice?”

Eostre nodded. “Frigg had three sons with Odin, while he had many more with other women.”

“What is it about gods and infidelity? They think just because they have penises it’s okay to whip them out and stick them in any hole they want.” Destiny shook her head. “Then again, who I am to judge? My mother wanted nothing to do with me. She abandoned me the day I was born.”

Pained sympathy filled Eostre’s eyes. “I’m sure she had a reason to?—”

“She fell to get away from me. She hated the idea of being my mother so much that she became human as soon as she pushed me out.”

Eostre folded her hands in her lap. “Have you tried to find her?”

Destiny scoffed. “No. Why would I? She left my dad to raise me alone, and I…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t about me. I’m so—. Please, continue. Frigg wanted a daughter.”

“She wanted one desperately, but she couldn’t bring herself to try again with Odin.”

“Can’t say I blame her.”

“She is the goddess of motherhood, so she used her magic to turn an elfen rabbit into a goddess, into her daughter.”

Destiny blinked three times. “You were a rabbit?”

“Indeed, I was, and Helga was furious when I was chosen. Frigg’s sacred animal is the goose, so she believed herself the only natural choice. But spring and dawn are soft-spoken and gentle. She needed a daughter with the same demeanor to reign over them, and Helga most definitely was not the one to do it.”

Destiny chuckled. “Can you imagine the sun shooting into the sky, skipping the beautiful colors of morning’s glory and heading straight to midday like, ‘What up, bitches?’”

Eostre giggled. Then she laughed deep from her belly before clutching it. “Oh, it hurts to laugh. But, yes, that is exactly how morning would dawn if Helga were in charge.”

“And all the flowers of spring would have razorblade thorns.”

“Indeed. Alas, Helga remains a goose who is never happy with what she has, even with the ability to lay golden eggs. She became livid once again when I chose Pete, an elfen robin, to carry out my holiday and ensure I received the proper offerings to continue my existence.”

“So you made him a rabbit shifter because the rabbit is your sacred animal?”

“Because I used to be one, yes.”

“So, all this. Your life, Pete’s life, Ragnarok… Your goose is cooked because an arrogant bird is jealous of you.”

“Of me, of Pete, and everyone else who has something she doesn’t. She wore an S-shaped neck brace for decades, trying to make herself look like a swan. She is never happy.”

“And now she’s murdering hens.” Destiny crawled to the wall and used it as a brace to stand. Her thigh muscles trembled, and her knees threatened to buckle, but she gathered every ounce of strength she could muster. “Helga has gone too far. I refuse to sit idly by while she destroys your entire world.”

And she’d be damned if she’d let a jealous goose take Pete away from her. With her hands pressed to the concrete, she inched along the wall toward the darkness Helga had disappeared into.

“What’s your plan?” Eostre rose to her knees and braced herself against the wall, panting with the exertion. “How can I help?”

“Save your strength. I can’t have you dying on me before we get you back to the fae realm.” The concrete ended abruptly at a sharp right turn, but the chains stopped her from venturing out of their makeshift prison.

“They fortified this section, which means they probably stored their equipment in here.” She turned and finally absorbed the details of their surroundings. Debris littered the floor, and a decrepit shelving unit sagged on the far wall.

She trudged toward it, her brow furrowing, angry determination igniting in her chest, rolling through her veins and energizing her muscles. “Pete’s not the only one who knows how to pick locks.”