Page 14

14

June 5, 720 AD

“ Y ou bastard!”

Entering his war tent, Thorn froze as he heard Brigid’s furious tone. It was nothing compared to the slap she delivered to him as soon as she closed the distance between them.

The demon in him rose up, demanding her blood for the assault. But he tamped it down for one reason only.

He deserved it.

Her dark eyes flashed as she glared at him with the fury of her entire Celtic pantheon. Her breathing ragged, she struggled to control herself.

He licked at the blood on his lips from her blow. “I take it that you’re upset with me, love?”

“Don’t you even,” she snarled in warning as she walked a circle around him, dragging her heavy brocade skirts in her tightly clenched fists.

Thorn arched a brow, still stunned that she was in his tent in the middle of the war that was raging outside. More than that … “I thought you swore that you’d never breathe the same air as I again.” That was the polite version of her words, at any rate.

Two months ago, after she’d found out who and what he really was, and who he was related to, she’d broken his heart, kicked him from her bed, and banished him from the only happiness he’d ever really known.

“I’m pregnant!”

Thorn felt the color drain from his face as those words hit him even harder than she had. “What?”

“You heard me well enough!”

For one incredibly stupid heartbeat, he almost asked who the father was, but her fury answered that. It was obviously his issue she carried.

Joy tore through him at the prospect.

Never once since the day he learned who his real father was had he considered the possibility of fatherhood.

But that happiness was cut short the moment she spoke again. “You did this on purpose! What? Do you plan to offer him to your father as a gift?”

Was she serious? Why would she even think that?

He gaped at her insinuation. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

“You’re a demon. What else am I to believe? All you’ve ever wanted was to get my father’s shield. What better way to get it than to give me a child who can claim it?”

Wholly untrue. He’d never even contemplated that. But they’d already had this argument about Thorn wanting an enchanted shield he had no interest in. She refused to see him as anything more than his father’s tool.

And that was not why he’d seduced her.

There for a time, in her precious arms, he’d almost been normal. He’d been in love and happy.

Too bad it wasn’t reciprocal.

He wiped at his swelling lips. “It wasn’t the whole reason. You are quite stunning when you’re not slapping me.”

She glared at him.

Thorn braced himself as he considered the implication of what they’d done. “So what are you planning to do with the baby?”

“I wanted it ripped from my womb the moment I learned of it, but I’ve been told that it would kill me in the process. With it being of conceived of your mixed blood, I have to deliver it.”

Those words bit him to the core of his soul. Just once, he’d give anything to be something more than the despised progeny of his father. “The babe will only be a quarter demon.” And that was only thanks to Paimon who’d mixed a part of his DNA with Noir’s when he’d carried out his orders.

All thanks to Jaden.

“One drop is as good as total.”

He winced. Of course it was. He should know that by now. “Then give him to me. I’ll raise him.”

Her eyes flared with angry passion. “I’d sooner cut his throat the moment he’s born.”

“Then you are planning to keep him?”

She shook her head. “I’m planning to put him where you’ll never find him. Hopefully, he’ll be mortal and will die quickly after his birth. If not … I’ll take care of it.”

He glared at her. “That is your son you’re speaking of!”

“What would you have me do? Suckle it on the milk of a goddess? To what purpose? To strengthen it?”

Those words cut him to the quick. “Brigid …” He moved to touch her.

She quickly stepped away and raked him with a bitter hatred that scorched his soul. “Never touch me again. Go to Noir and tell him you have failed. Neither of you will ever take possession of this child.”

And with that, she was gone.

Brigid returned to her chambers as her fear and loathing warred with the love she felt for both the demon who’d seduced her and the child he’d given her.

How could she have been so foolish? But then that was Thorn’s greatest power. The ability to deceive and to make his enemies trust him when they shouldn’t.

Aye, he was a dodgy bastard. And she’d been so lonely these years since her husband had been slain. Her grief had made her weak. And she’d longed for comfort and companionship.

There for a time, she’d thought Thorn the most perfect man ever born, and he’d eased the constant agony in her heart. Had filled her days and nights with such great happiness.

Until she’d learned who and what Thorn really was.

Who he served.

Noir. The oldest, darkest primal power of evil. The essence of the worst of all kind. Closing her eyes, she placed her hand over her stomach where her son was barely the size of a bean.

“In your heart, you will have the ability to do the greatest of good.”

Or the worst of all evil.

“What troubles you, daughter?”

She turned at the melodic sound of her mother’s voice. In the form of a maiden, the Mórrígan was as beautiful as always.

Her raven dark hair was braided around her head in an intricate pattern.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to her mother and held her close. “What have I done?”

“What we’ve all done at times. You followed your heart, and it led you somewhere you didn’t want to go.” Her mother placed her hand to Brigid’s stomach. “Breathe, daughter. All will be right.”

“Do you know that, or do you believe that?”

“Is there a difference? We make our own truth with what we believe.”

Brigid scowled at her. “As spoken by the goddess of fate?”

“Who better to know the truth?”

She was right, and Brigid loathed her for that. “No one can ever know who his father is.”

“Then don’t tell them.”

Brigid nodded. Aye, she’d keep this secret. And she’d make sure that her son was forever safe from harm. Forever beyond the reach of all evil. He would be the last of her sons. She felt that with every part of her goddess being.

She’d buried one son already, she would not lose another.

“I shall name him Cadegan. The son of battle and glory.”

And in addition to life, she would give him the one thing that she dared not entrust to any other. The one thing that would protect him from harm and keep him safe from all.

Her father’s shield.

So long as Cadegan didn’t shed human blood, he would be safe from his father’s reach.

Her mother brushed her hand over Brigid’s furrowed brow, smoothing it with her fingers. “Good and bad lives in the heart of us all. It is the choices we make, large and small, every day that determine our future. Have faith in your child, Brigid. For while he holds his father’s blood, he also holds yours. Once he leaves you, his life will be his own. And as with all living creatures, he’ll have to find the courage to face and battle what his enemies throw at him. Whether he stumbles, falls or ultimately triumphs is a decision only he can make. For there is no true failure in life, child. There is only giving up one day before we would have achieved success.”

“But if he unites with his father?”

“His father was born of evil blood. Yet he spurned it and is now on our side.”

“For today. What of tomorrow?”

“It will come, and we cannot stop that. But we don’t have to fear the morrow. We only have to face it.” Kissing her cheek, her mother left her.

She was right, and Brigid knew it. Whatever happened, she would do her best by her child and hope. After all, hope was the greatest gift and the single greatest curse of every living thing.

Simi sat on the floor, listening to akri play his lute when all of a sudden, she felt a jolt go through her.

Akri-Thorn.

He had a great sadness in his heart like akri had whenever his thoughts went to his bitty nephew or his sister. It was so hurtful that it made her eyes water.

She could barely breathe.

But akri didn’t like for her to leave on her own, and he would be angry if he knew she went to Azmodea. Whenever he went to visit the heifer goddess, he assumed his Simi stayed here with akri-Lexi and she let him think that. Akri-Lexi assumed she stayed in her room lots.

She never told him different either.

But now …

“Akri?”

He looked up from his playing. “Yes, Simkey?”

“The Simi’s tired. I go bed, okies?”

“You sick?”

She shook her head. “Just tired from all the good eats.”

“Ah. Goodnight, then.”

She went and kissed his cheek, then flew off to her room. As soon as she closed the door, she teleported to akri-Thorn’s palace.

Only he wasn’t in his throne room.

Still, it was easy to find him. He was throwing things in his bedroom. Lots of things shattered very loudly, like a scary thunderstorm.

For a second, she considered going back home. Maybe akri-Thorn needed to be alone for his fury.

Maybe not. Personally, she didn’t like to be alone when she was angry. She preferred to have someone there to hear her howl in frustration.

So did akri.

Uncertain what to do, she crept slowly toward his room. It got worse. He was now shouting.

“I hate her! I hate everything! Damn you all! Damn me! Damn it!”

Eyes wide, she hoped he didn’t hate her, too. Was someone else in the room with him?

If they were, they weren’t saying anything.

Maybe he needed someone to shout with him like she did when she was furious.

Biting her lip, she decided to peek in and see what exactly was going on. So she teleported into his room, then drew up short at the last thing she expected.

Never before had she seen akri-Thorn as a demon.

Oh my!

He was incredibly handsome. Kind of like a Charonte except his eyes were more of a dragon’s with their yellow hue and slit pupils. And his skin held a glittery quality to it. Still, she appreciated how beautimous he was in this form. Much betterer than his normal human body.

But the moment he saw her, he calmed himself.

“Simi … what are you doing here?”

“You’re hurts. The Simi felts it and was afraid the evil Malachai had bushed you again.”

He scowled at her for a second, then smiled. “Ambushed me you mean?”

“That’s what the Simi said.”

Sighing heavily, he returned to his human form. “No, Simi. I wasn’t attacked. At least not physically. My heart’s been ripped out of my chest.”

That made no sense to her. His heart was where it belonged. “Your heart’s still in your chest, but it hurts.” She could feel his pain inside herself. “What happened?”

He looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okays.” She picked up a vase near her and threw it against the wall where it shattered into pieces and added more debris to the stone floor. “We’ll break things, then, until you feel betterer.”

Thorn laughed at her actions that mimicked what he’d been doing on her arrival. He’d absolutely trashed his bedroom.

Leave it to Simi to make him smile given the severe heartbreak he’d just suffered.

She paused to look at him. “Why you stop, akri-Thorn? Aren’t we going to break more things?”

He wanted to, but … “It’s not really helping.” And it was making a huge mess in his room.

Hands on her hips, she pressed her lips together. “What can the Simi do to help if it don’t mean breaking more stuff in here?”

Such an innocent question that it made pain, bitter and aching, tear through him. “There’s nothing to be done, Sim. The woman I love hates me and wants nothing to do with me ever again.”

The color faded from her face. “Oh akri-Thorn … Simi is so, so sorry. That’s the horriblest.” Pouting, she stepped into his arms and gave him the sweetest hug he’d ever received. “Why she being so mean to you when you’re so sweet?”

“Because I’m not sweet. I’m not even really kind. I’m an awful, horrific beast and she knows it.”

“That not truth. The Simi know her akri-Thorn.” She looked up at him with a sincere stare that cut him to the bone. “Simi’s known you forever. You always the bestest. Only akri betterer and only because he’s the Simi’s akri.”

How he wished that was the truth. But in his heart, he knew the angry side of him that he’d inherited from his real father. Even though he did his best to deny and ignore it, he was the son of Noir.

Evil through and through. There was no way around the truth. He might lie to others about his parentage, but he couldn’t lie to himself.

Brigid had seen the beast and decided that he could never be trusted.

Worst part?

He agreed. There was a part of him that liked to dance with cruelty. It flirted with the darkness that had birthed him. And it was hard to resist.

Humans called him the son of Lucifer and he never bothered to correct them. Mostly because Noir was far more sinister.

Cruelty lured him like a siren. It wrapped its arms around him and made him want to hurt others. Some days, it took everything he had not to give in.

That was what had terrified Brigid. Honestly, what terrified him.

It was why she’d decided that she could never be around him anymore or share a future with someone who had his lineage.

“She’s pregnant, Sim.”

Simi cocked her head. “Your woman?”

He winced at her innocent question. “Not mine anymore. But yes.”

“That’s a good thing, right? Babies are always wonderful. Tasty too.”

He snorted at the last bit, knowing she’d never eat a baby anything. She just liked to tease about it because it got under Acheron’s skin. “I’m not allowed to see him when he’s born. She told me that she will hide my child where I’ll never find him.”

She blew out a long, disbelieving breath. “Then the woman be dumb. Don’t know your powers neither. You could find anything. There’s no place to hide your baby where you won’t see him, and I know it.”

He loved the way Simi made him feel.

If only Brigid could be so kind. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he let out a frustrated roar. “How can she take my son from me?”

Simi hugged him. “People are mean, akri-Thorn. Sometimes even meaner when they’re hurt. Simi don’t know why. But … maybe she’ll change her mind.”

No. He knew better. It was over. He’d lost everything.

Even his mind.

How could he ever get past this? He’d loved her more than anything and she only saw him as a monster. She wouldn’t listen to a word he had to say. He’d given her his best.

And she refused to see anything more than the worst in him.

It was awful.

Suddenly, Simi held an old doll up in his face.

Thorn scowled. “What are showing me?”

“It’s what you gave the Simi when she was little. It makes the Simi feel all betterer when she’s sad. I was hoping she’d make you feel better, too.”

A foreign emotion choked him over something he’d completely forgotten about. He remembered that doll now. The day they’d met and he’d sought to scare a little girl.

The way Simi had laughed at his inept stupidity.

Amazed by the fact that she still had that rag doll all these centuries later, he took the doll that was remarkably well preserved. “I can’t believe you kept this.”

“Of course. The Simi keeps all her presents … that I don’t eat. It’d be ickiest to keep edibles. But the Simi loves her doll. Lucilu always makes me smile.”

“Lucilu?”

“Named for akri-Leucious. You might have changed your name, but Lucilu hasn’t.”

He laughed in spite of his sadness. With a ragged sigh, he handed the doll back to her. “Thank you, Simi.”

“You’re very welcome, akri-Thorn.”

He gently took her hand. “Seriously, Simi. Thank you. Your friendship means a lot more to me than you know. I don’t have many friends. Or any, really. Trusting others isn’t something I do.”

“The Simi isn’t others. She’s Simi.” Lifting herself up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “Don’t be sad, akri-Thorn. Things will get better. You’ll see.”

Then she was gone.

Thorn felt her absence more than he expected. How he wished he could share her optimism. But that part of him had been kicked out of existence when he’d been a boy.

He missed that part of himself.

There was a lot he missed, truthfully.

Sighing, he used his powers to clean up the mess in his room. But that only made it seem emptier.

Was this all there was to his life?

Loss?

Anger?

Betrayal?

Nothing made sense. Once again, he felt lost. Every time he thought he had his feet underneath him, something or someone came along and sent him careening.

“What am I going to do?”

This was just like the day he’d learned his father wasn’t his father. That the world wasn’t what he thought.

That everyone had lied to him.

How many times was he going to have to start over?

Sitting on his bed, he closed his eyes in an effort to get his bearings. He really didn’t know what to do. Or what was going to happen.

But at least he still had Simi.