Page 18 of Holy Shift (New Orleans Nocturnes #8)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Pete groaned and stumbled to his feet. “Max, can you pick the locks?”

“On it, sir.” The raccoon fiddled with the shackle around Eostre’s ankle.

“Leave me before the iron drains your magic.” The goddess rested a hand on Max’s back. “Save Easter. Save my legacy.”

“There is no Easter without the goddess of spring, and I’ll be damned if that godless goose is going to take your place.” Pete grabbed a roll of copper wire and shoved the end into the lock on her wrists. “She’s got the woman I love, and no one gets away with hurting my fated mate.”

He swirled the wire, and the chains clattered to the floor. Clutching Eostre by the waist, he draped her arm across his shoulders, bracing her weight against him. “Climb up, Max.”

The raccoon scrambled up his side and clutched the front of his shirt as Pete rose to his feet. With his dearest friends wrapped in his arms, he stomped three times, opening a rabbit hole in the ground.

“Whoa.” That wasn’t any old bunny hole. It was a portal to the fae realm. His head spun, but he didn’t have time to contemplate what he’d just done. He hopped into the hole, and it closed behind them, opening into his office inside the egg studio.

He lowered Eostre into a chair and stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the desk. The goddess rested her hand on his and lifted her head, the sparkle in her lavender eyes slowly returning. “Do you remember now?”

He gazed at the gilded egg on his desk and picked it up, tracing his finger over the baroque pattern. It was a hen’s egg, as all Easter eggs should be. Max climbed onto the windowsill and peered through the blinds into the workshop.

How could he have forgotten his right-hand elfen , the most loyal friend he’d ever had? And the goddess who made him into the man he was? The Easter Bunny. Pete Hasen was the one and only Easter Bunny. He had been for over a thousand years, and he would continue to be until the end of days.

“I remember everything.” He followed Max’s gaze and took in his team of artists, the beloved creatures without whom Easter could not happen. Each elfen stood shackled to their workstations, using stencils to paint goose eggs in Helga’s image.

He turned to Eostre. “How many days until Easter?”

“Nine.”

He nodded. “Then we still have time to save it.”

He moved toward the door, but the goddess grasped his hand. “Have you forgotten Destiny?”

“I could never forget my fated mate.” And he would do whatever it took to wrench her from Helga's clutches.

The goose’s unmistakable undead squawk sounded in the studio, and the elfen gasped. Pete peeked through the office blinds and found them cowering behind their easels as Helga, her bill full of angel hair, dragged Destiny onto the platform. The iron chains still encircled her wrists, weighing her down, and as Helga forced her to her knees, she groaned.

Pete’s nostrils flared, his heart kicking into a sprint.

“Beho—” Helga spit, slapping at her bill until a feather caught the long strand of copper hair tying her tongue. She pulled it out of her mouth and sputtered before spreading her wings wide. “Behold my power, minions. I captured an angel, and I’ll drain her dry as an example. Do my bidding, or you’ll meet the same fate. I am your master now.”

Destiny laughed dryly. “The only thing you’ve mastered is this idiotic villain monologue.”

Helga squawked, ruffling her feathers, and Pete eyed Destiny’s hands. She’d gotten the thin nail he’d tossed her into the lock. She just needed to twist it the right way.

“What’s the plan, sir?” Max asked, his voice hushed.

Pete glanced at Eostre. Though the faery sparkle had returned to her eyes, her pallor was still ashen, her hair lacking its usual luster. She wouldn’t have the strength to end this, so it was up to him to cook that goose.

“Will you be okay alone?” he asked the goddess.

“I am recovering already,” she whispered. “Go now. Both of you.”

Pete nodded, stomped his foot three times, and hopped into the rabbit hole. Max followed, and they landed at the back of the studio. He took the raccoon’s hands in his and sent a burst of Easter magic into his being.

“You’ve got about ten minutes of my power,” he whispered. “Look. The elfen’s shackles aren’t iron. Touch as many as you can and set them free quietly.”

“The only reason you could trap me is because my magic is bound,” Destiny continued goading the goose. “I’m basically human right now, so big deal. Vampires feed on the mundane every day. Whoop-de-do.”

Pete crept toward the platform, crouching so the easels hid him, unlocking the elfen he passed along the way. “Stay quiet,” he said under his breath.

Helga shook, spreading her wings to take up more space, and three feathers floated to the floor. “There’s nothing basic about you, and I am so much more than a vampire.”

“If you say so, goose.” Destiny stilled her hands, waiting until Helga turned to the crowd to continue working on the iron lock.

“Your precious Peter Cottontail isn’t coming to save you. Any of you,” Helga honked, and Pete bristled.

That was why he hated that name and the song that went with it. Helga had taunted him with it for centuries, her way of reminding him she believed birds were superior to all other animals.

“I have vampire speed and strength.” The goose waved her wings. “I have the power of Voodoo running through my veins and, yes, I even have an angel on my side.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Destiny unlocked her chains, but she held onto them, pretending to still be bound. “I bet her name is Gabriela. Good luck working with her. She’ll rake you across the coals the first chance she gets.”

“Enough!” Helga lunged and sank her fangs into Destiny’s jugular.

Destiny yelped and dropped the chains, gripping Helga’s neck with both hands, trying to pry herself free.

Pete shot upright and raced toward them. “Let her go.”

“Never!” Helga gurgled, her mouth full of angel blood.

He grabbed her wings, wrenching them behind her body and pulling with all his might. Destiny yanked on her neck, adding to the force and ripping the goose’s fangs from her flesh. Blood squirted from Destiny’s neck like a fountain. She covered the wound with her hand, but the blood continued to ooze through her fingers. An elfen otter fainted at the sight.

Helga lunged and wiggled, trying to free herself from Pete’s grasp. He tightened his grip on her wings, wrapping them around her and holding her tightly against his chest. He needed to end this. To end her . An iron stake to her heart would do the trick, but he didn’t keep the poisonous metal laying around in his studio. That left beheading. But if he chopped off her head in front of his elfen , they’d be traumatized for life.

“ Honk, honk.” In the seconds it took him to contemplate, Helga twisted her long neck around and chomped on his. Her fangs pierced his skin, the searing pain making him lose his grip. She jerked away, taking a chunk of his flesh with her as she flapped her wings and flew to the ceiling.

“I’ll be a goddess soon,” she squawked. “So I better kill you all while I can.”

She dive-bombed the unconscious otter, taking him into her bill and shaking him. Destiny stumbled, the blood loss too much for her to bear. Pete rushed to her, pulling his trusty jar of salve from his magical pocket and smearing the enchanted goo over her wound. The bleeding stopped instantly, and the gash began to heal.

“Are you okay?” He brushed the matted hair from her face.

“I will be.” She sat on the edge of the platform, her body swaying as she took a painted goose egg from the nearest box and hurled it at Helga.

The impact made the goose drop the otter, and Max dragged him to safety while the rest of the elfen followed Destiny’s lead. Helga flapped, rising to the ceiling as goose egg after goose egg soared toward her.

Most of them missed— elfen weren’t known for their athletic abilities—but a momma possum with her babies on board chunked one right into Helga’s face.

The goose fell, thudding on the floor before rising to her feet. “You can’t hurt me. I have the healing power of multiple magical beings running through me.”

Pete hurled another egg at her head, and she grunted. The elfen followed suit, gathering eggs into their arms and chunking them as hard as they could as they encircled her. She tried to fly, but every time she lifted her wings, his beloved team of artists threw more and more eggs.

“Stop!” Helga lowered her head and charged, her webbed feet slapping the ground as she plowed through the crowd. She knocked over three elfen before taking to the air and soaring toward Destiny.

“I don’t care how many beings you have in your pocket, you’re still just a silly goose, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” His angel picked up the iron chain and swung. It crashed into Helga, the force making it wrap around her slender neck two times before Destiny yanked her to the ground.

Stunned silence filled the room as if it had been stuffed with cotton. The pregnant pause expanded, no one speaking, no one moving, everyone barely breathing. Destiny’s mouth dropped open, and she covered it with her hand, swaying on her feet as she took in the scene. Pete rushed to her side, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” Her fingers trembled, and she fisted her hand, lowering it to her side.

“I know.” He rubbed her shoulders and followed her gaze to where Helga the golden vampire/Voodoo/goddess-touched goose lay headless on the floor. “But I’m glad you did.”

The elfen murmured, still clutching their makeshift weapons as they crept toward the body. With the help of the poisonous iron and the strength of one pissed-off angel, Destiny had ripped Helga’s head from her neck. Their muttering grew to a chitter, the looks of shock fading from their faces as the energy in the room lightened. A ferret dropped a goose egg onto the floor, stomping on it, and the elfen cheered.

Max tipped a box of painted eggs over, spilling them onto the floor. The elfen laughed and stomped, singing “Ding Dong the Goose is Dead” as they turned the studio into a giant platter of egg salad.

“They shouldn’t be celebrating.” Destiny stared straight ahead, her expression blank. “They don’t understand what I’ve done. What’s going to happen. This is bad, Pete. So very bad.”

The elfen gasped in unison, lifting their gazes, and Pete turned to find Eostre standing behind them.

“You know you’ll have to clean this up before the hens’ eggs arrive, right?” The goddess fought a smile. “Have your fun, my children, and then it’s back to work. The hens are already laying.”

“I’m sorry,” Destiny said, and Pete wrapped his arms around her, pressing his front to her back.

“You ripped it clean off, didn’t you?” Eostre said. “That was quite a feat for someone with her magic bound.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Destiny clutched her hands over her heart. “I know what this means. An angel killed a fae. That’s grounds to start the war to end all wars. I’ve single-handedly ushered in Ragnarok, haven’t I?”

“No.” He held her tighter, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Eostre didn’t tell you the full prophecy. ‘A sacrifice, giving up one life, can stop the war and end our strife.’ With Helga out of the picture, the balance will remain intact. You stopped the war.”

The goddess’s smile faded, and she shook her head. “I’m afraid Helga’s life is not the sacrifice the prophecy requires. Take Destiny home. I must meet with the council of gods.”

His heart plopped into his stomach to take a swim in the bitter acid. “Eostre, no.”

“Take her home, Pete.”