Libraean realized the extent of his overreaction and removed himself from the crossfire with worried eyes. Morrigan looked frantically between both brothers, unnerved to see David irate beyond reason. Though she had stood between them more times than she could count, something didn’t seem right. And as strongly as the thrashing sea beckoned to her to let it loose, this was not the time to let her own aggression get the best of her.
She tried again, calming herself before she spoke. “David, please tell me what is going on here.”
“Don’t petition me with your soft voice and batting eyelashes while you reek of my brother,” he sneered.
Unwelcome memories suddenly slammed into her, jolting her away from reality and into the days of Celtic Ireland. When she discovered Daghda’s affair, she stood in front of Lugh, peering up at him with gritted teeth and crossed arms. “You are going to tell me right now or I will kill them all myself.”
The blonde warrior god sighed. Though he was taller than she was, rippled with the athletic build common to powerful warriors, she knew he was intimidated by her—all the gods were. It was she that could turn a battle into a success or a stormy failure, depending on how slighted she felt. In truth, she took each request for victory into careful consideration, thoughtfully choosing which side to bestow her blessing upon, but she never corrected it, allowing them all to think of her as an irrational harbinger of doom.
“I know of no affair,” he repeated.
“I have looked into Aengus’s eyes and I see Daghda reflected back at me,” Morrigan insisted. She knew she was unreasonably incensed; she had always suspected infidelity and was not surprised by it, but she felt herself losing control. Her crows circled above her, agitated by the tumultuous waves of emotion radiating off their queen.
Lugh glanced at them nervously before meeting her eyes. “I can only tell you what I think. You been wed longer than some of us been alive. Daghda is old and worn, wanting to rule the kingdom and serve his people. You want war, you need adventure and conquest. I think for a time, when you were gone, she filled your place.”
“No one can fill my place.”
“Aye,” Lugh smiled sadly. “But I think the old fool tried. Are you gonna be seeking your vengeance then?”
“Of course,” Morrigan scoffed. “It is my right as a wife to strike down the woman who tried to take my husband from me.”
“But can ya kill his son too?” Lugh pointed out. “What if Daghda finds out? He would never forgive you.”
“Then I suppose I will have to kill him too,” she replied before dissolving into her flock.
The present Morrigan blinked, trying to see past the vision of the young, blonde river goddess as she fell to her knees, her eyes wide and full of terror, so she could focus on what was unfolding before her.
“Please forgive me! ’Twas a foolish mistake, one that I will regret for the rest of my days!”
Morrigan bristled with hatred, fully prepared to unleash the fury intended for Daghda out onto his cowering lover. “You have no more days.”
The present David pulled her out of the memory as he advanced forward, the wind now churning around them at whirlwind speed. His copper hair whipped around his head like flames, his teeth gnashed together as if he was wearing the mask of his brother at the height of his madness. She searched his eyes for any recognition, but they were unforgiving and blank, his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Morrigan,” he repeated. “Get out of the way or I will tear you down.”
His words were all she needed.
Snakes burst from the tiled floors as the building waves finally crashed against the house, filling it with seawater. Morrigan leapt forward, wrapping her hands around David’s throat as she used the weight of her body to throw him to the ground. He managed to snap his own hands around her neck, the gales of wind now deafening, preventing anyone around them from intervening as the seawater swirled with the wind. Morrigan was trapped in a deadlock with her former lover, untethered fury pulsing through her limbs, rendering her unable to let go, even as black spots obscured her vision. Every emotion she’d fought to keep at bay the past year had unleashed itself, including the small part of her, buried deep inside, that wanted it to all be over, tired of struggling, wanting him to kill her.
“Enough!” A female voice shrieked, throwing her off him with a bolt of power, right into Lucius’s waiting arms. He gripped her tightly as she tried to get away, only relaxing when she realized the rest had gathered around them and stopped, the wind slowed to a steady breeze. Cahira stood next to a coughing David and Libraean, the snakes Morrigan had inadvertently summoned twisting harmlessly around her feet as though calmed by the earth goddess. They all stared at her, surprised by her reaction. She looked up to see Anubis had taken his position beside her and Lucius, the presence of both of them soothing to her. The ocean waves crept back toward the shoreline as leftover droplets fell from the ceiling.
“You have snakes now?” Lucius whispered in her ear.
“You need to tell me right now why you have brought this chaos into my home.” Anubis demanded of the three that stood opposite them. Although the air around them had settled, its energy shifted, a heavy presence like molasses edging inward. Morrigan could hear its whispers, smell the burning tobacco from Legba’s pipe. Although Cahira had been the only one who could separate them, death had broken through to end it all, overpowering the life magic that had dominated the room. Its energy restored her, refocusing her mind and emotions as it settled around the three of them, protecting them from harm. She could tell Lucius sensed it as well, his own heart rate slowing as he helped her to her feet.
“I have no qualms against Lucius, but she would have killed David had I not intervened,” Cahira replied coolly.
“David, what is the meaning of this?” Anubis redirected the question.
“He killed Jacob,” Libraean said, his voice quivering.
“How do you know?”
“Why don’t you ask him, Morrigan.” David looked directly at her.
She looked up at Lucius, who still wore his familiar expression of contempt.
“She doesn’t have to ask me anything because she knows me,” he shot back. “Did you notice how easily she jumped to my defense? My, how things have changed.”
“Jacob came to me in a vision,” David continued to address Morrigan, undeterred by his taunting. “He told me Lucius fed on him during our trip across the Channel, knowing that he would soon die of fever. He couldn’t resist feeding on something alive, even if it was someone we knew, someone we loved.”
Morrigan scoffed. “That doesn’t sound like something he would do.”
David laughed incredulously. “That sounds exactly like something he would do! Lucius thinks only of himself—that fact hasn’t changed for eons. How could you fall for this act of his? You are completely blinded by him.”
“Enough,” Anubis ordered. “There are ways to solve these things. But I will need you all to separate—this house might be protected from outside forces but dueling gods will surely draw unneeded attention.”
Cahira put a gentle hand on David’s arm. “We will sort this out,” she told him and Libraean, who still looked terribly distraught though his anger had long since dissipated.
“I’ll need you to come with me,” Anubis told Morrigan gently. “They talk to you too,” he added in reply to her confused look.
Lucius sighed, his hair disheveled from the wind. “I’ll be in my room polishing off a bottle of rum,” he decided. He pointed to Cahira, “Since you seem to be taking responsibility for them, it would be best to keep them the hell away from me.” Then he surprised everyone, grabbing Morrigan’s face and giving her a firm kiss on the mouth before he marched back from where he’d emerged.
She avoided looking at David, but she overheard him tell Cahira, “There is no need to watch over either of us. This evening has proven to be exceptionally difficult for Libraean, so I’ll be keeping him company until this mess gets sorted out. We will wait to hear from you.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just wait here until you all resolve this,” Cahira sighed as she flopped down on the soaked couch. “I have to wait for Sandrine regardless.” David and Libraean disappeared wordlessly, heading back into the eastern part of the house.
Anubis looked at Cahira. “If you could, though—” he started to say.
“I will make sure no one dies tonight,” she finished for him with a flash of her honey-colored eyes.
