The Magic Queen (11 page)

Immediately, a large schooner materialized.

“To me, wench!” Freyr cried like some addlepated captain out of some cheesy romance novel and hoisted Baba up to him by a strong wind.

Fable was still trying to unhook the blade from Owiot’s foot. It was possible that, just maybe, Baba had used a locking spell on it so that no matter how much one tugged and pulled, it wouldn’t slip free for at least eight more hours.

Maybe. Possibly. Okay, so yes, that was what she’d done.

Laughing merrily, she threw them both an air kiss. “It’s been fun, kids, but my carriage awaits.”

Freyr, caught up in the moment, winked down at them and then cried, “Onward ho!”

He pointed to the sky, and from one blink to the next, they were aboard his vessel and sailing swiftly away from that ridiculous island.

At the helm, Freyr chuckled. “So it seems I saved you after all, my saucy little minx. More clothing next time, Baba. I almost gouged that male’s eyes out. Honestly.”

Blushing at his praise but also still a little irritated because she’d have had that win if he hadn’t croaked like a dying frog at the most inopportune moment. She punched him in the chest.

“Fellatio, I swear, one of these days I’m going to kill you.”

“Admit it, you love me.” He grinned, rubbing his chest.

“Argh!” She stomped her foot, turned her face out to sea, and tried in vain to hide the stupid smile curving her lips.

Chapter 6

Calypso

Calypso frowned as she watched the sea orb’s colors blur. She’d been excited at the notion that today was Fable’s first day of hunting. Of course, things hadn’t quite transpired as she’d hoped.

Dite, who must have noticed Caly’s sudden silence, peeked at her. “You’re quiet. It’s never good when you’re quiet. Why are you quiet?”

Calypso grumped. “I’m fine.”

Aphrodite patted her on the shoulder, clearly aware Caly wasn’t fine. “Relax, Caly. Remember, we knew Fable was going to have to fight and probably not win every match. Baba isn’t going to be a walk in the park for anyone.”

Caly frowned harder.

Yes, she wasn’t supposed to play favorites. But it was a lie. She totally did. Still, Baba Yaga was doing exactly what they’d brought her into the games to do. Fable had needed a swift kick in the rear to get her to realize her feelings for her Owiot. Her granddaughter was a tough nut to crack, even at the best of times. Still, knowing it and seeing it were two different things.

An idea came to her, a brilliantly, cleverly wicked idea, and she grinned broadly. “I have a plan.”

“Caly,” Dite drawled, obviously knowing her friend had come up with something rather dastardly.

Calypso shrugged. “I’m okay, Dite. No worries. Really. But I think I know of a way to speed things along with Baba and her meat sack.”

“How come I don’t believe you?” Aphrodite shook her head, causing her fat golden curls to bob prettily. “This is totally about Fable, isn’t it? Are you playing payback, ’cause you know Them won’t like—”

Caly snorted. “It’s totally not about Fable getting hurt.”

Dite lifted a brow, and Caly shrugged.

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little bit about Fable, but really just a very little. The truth is, I just had a wicked good idea about how to get Fellatio and witch to draw closer.”

Dite crossed her arms, eyeing Caly hard. “No killing, right?”

“No. No, of course not. I promise no maiming, just a little harmless fun that should cause those two crazy lovebirds to draw closer.” Cocking her head she said, “You told me you’d back me on this, Dites. I really need you to be okay with this. Trust me.”

She held her breath. She didn’t need Dites’s go ahead to do what she was going to do, but she wanted it. It was important to her that Aphrodite said yes.

Aphrodite, who had as much of a penchant for pranks as Caly did, finally capitulated and said with a snicker, “Well, as long as Them doesn’t find out.”

Calypso released her pent-up breath and smiled broadly. “Good. This is good. And I promise. It’s going to be great fun.”

“It always is with you, Cal. It always is.”

~*~

Baba Yaga

They sat in front of the fire, bellies full of water, but still growling due to a lack of protein or carbohydrates. Baba was trying to analyze why she felt so funny. True, she was hungry, and her stomach was definitely letting her know it. But it was more than that.

Frowning, she looked over at Freyr, shocked to note he’d been studying her as well.

Not at all embarrassed to be caught staring, he lifted a brow and grinned. “What is it, love?”

She groaned but opted against chastising him. After hearing it so many times, she was growing used to the sound. “Not sure.” She shrugged. “I feel strange.”

Immediately, the laughter on his face died down, and he looked at her seriously. “Did they hurt you?”

He reached out a hand, as though to assess her condition, but she swatted that sexy hand away.

“No touching.”

He grumped, tossed her a dirty look, and sighed.

They’d sailed for hours after their theatrical escape. Baba could only assume that it was because neither one of them had actually managed to kill the other’s mate. True, she’d stabbed Owiot through his foot. But it was not a deathblow.

She and Freyr had been forced to endure twelve hours trapped in that maze of sand and surf. They’d hoped to at least catch a few fish, something to fill their bellies with, but the realm had been flat and devoid of life except for the flies Freyr had decided no longer tasted quite as good .

She’d not seen Fable or Owiot at all after their departure, but she’d felt the dark queen’s wrath the entire time. The waters had been far from calm for their voyage into nowhere. No, the strangeness began to occur in the water.

She shook her head. “They didn’t hurt me, though I still haven’t forgiven you for poking your head out of my corset at the most inopportune time.”

He smirked, that teasing light back. “Yes, well. Can you blame me? Those breasts of yours, while magnificent, are rather suffocating after a while. Apparently, too much of a good thing really is bad.”

She laughed. He did that to her, made her see the humor in just about everything. Yes, the male was beautiful. Fertility gods usually were, but she was coming to realize that she liked the idiot. A lot actually.

His lips twitched in response. “You should do that more often. You know.”

“
Pft.
” She swatted at his words. “I’ve been told laughter is a disease of the soul.”

He snorted, eyes dancing. “First I’ve heard of it.”

She toyed with the tip of her blade. “It’s true. Apparently, humor turns one into a happy person. Gods forbid. Fate worse than death.”

She shuddered, and he chortled.

“You’re an odd creature.”

But the way he said it made it feel more like a compliment then a put-down. She glanced down at her feet, still feeling that strange creeping sensation slink around inside her.

They settled into another contemplative silence broken only when he whispered, “I’m rather fond of purple fire.”

She smiled. A moment later, her stomach grumbled loudly.

“Did you hear that farting dragon?”

She stuck out her tongue. “Oh, shut it. You know damn well it was me.”

Farting dragon indeed. What an idiot
. The thought, however, had no sting to it.

“We need to find food. If we don’t, I fear I might eat an arm soon.” He looked down at his own then shook his head and looked toward hers. “I’ll start with yours. Nice and plump and
mmm
.” He rubbed his stomach, teasing her yet again.

The male was such a Neanderthal. And she was developing a cramp in her cheeks from smiling so hard.
Grr
.

She knew without asking that he was doing it for her. Somehow, she knew that, and it made her feel strangely shy all of a sudden.

But she really was hungry. “Fine.” She nodded slowly and rose. “Since I’ve no desire to be anyone’s dinner, I suppose we should go scout this wasteland and see if we can find anything.”

Freyr was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with the words “Keep Calm and Have SEX” stenciled on it. She wasn’t exactly sure where he’d found his change of clothes, but she had to admit to enjoying the laid-back apparel more than the leather trews and blouse he’d initially worn.

She, on the other hand, was still only dressed in her boots, panties, and leather vest, because, well, for all her careful packing, she’d failed to consider a change of clothes.

She’d definitely need a bath tonight. She’d have to wash her underthings too, which would leave her completely in the buff in front of him. Not that she cared much about nudity. A body was really nothing but bones covered in muscle and tissue, a thing, nothing she’d ever gotten overly excited about until, of course, he’d gone and stretched earlier, causing the hem of his shirt to rise an inch and show off a ridge of abdominal muscle that’d caused her mouth to water and her thighs to tingle.

He shoulder bumped her, yanking her from those weird thoughts. Brows dipping, she gave him a questioning glance.

“You’re quiet. Too quiet. I don’t care for it. Talk to me, witch. This world is boring.”

She snickered. “Are you really that needy, Fellatio? Can you not entertain yourself for a bit?”

Baba didn’t even need to watch where she was going right now. There was literally nothing to even trip over. This truly was a wasteland of epic proportions. Apart from the tributary—which she’d created—there was nothing but weeds and dirt as far as her eyes could see. The only halfway pretty thing about this place was how brightly the stars winked in the night sky.

He shrugged. “Considering the fact that there are no books, no movie screen on which to watch Earth shows—”

“You know Earth culture, do you?”

He nodded. “Even gods evolve, love. I walk that world often. I even know what an iPhone is. Do you?”

His smile was infectious, and she found herself returning one in kind. “As a matter of fact, I do. Unlike most Kingdomers, I originally hailed from the Earthen realm and often like to look in on things there to see the changes over time.”

At this, he looked astonished. “And now I can finally place your strange accent. Russian. Gaelic. English. And Kingdom all rolled into one. Because you’ve been literally everywhere, haven’t you? But why? Why would you ever willingly leave Earth? I find the entire construct fascinating.”

So the fertility god actually did have other thoughts in his head besides sex. The meat sack surprised her more and more.

“Why? There is hardly any magick to be had there. What there is so dark the working of it managed to turn even my stomach on occasion. Mortals live such short, meaningless lives. They spar, war—”

“Meh.” He flicked his wrist. “I could turn your own argument against you. Do we not spar and war?” He spread his hand. “Look where we’re at, what we’re doing. And for what?”

“Meaningless twaddle,” she finished for him.

Freyr nodded. “Twaddle. I like that. Tomorrow, I’ll find some way to use it.”

She snorted. “You’re an idiot, Fellatio. You know that.”

The words hadn’t come off sharp, as they normally would have to anyone else. A dazzling smile cut a path across his face. “Maybe. But you love it. You know you do.”

He winked, and she blushed because she didn’t hate it.

“Whatever,” she grumbled.

He whistled a merry tune.

The man was annoyingly chipper. More often than not, his arguments were sensible and rationally thought out. He was gorgeous. Try as she might, Baba couldn’t find it in her to hate him. She’d never had much patience for humans in general, be they gods, magical, or otherwise. She simply preferred to be alone with only her familiars as company. But what had felt like torture when the goddesses had first brought up this asinine notion to her was now anything but.

That thought was so shocking that, for once in her life, she didn’t know what to say, think, or even do. So she walked on, contemplating the impossible.

“You do realize,” he said after they’d trekked close to a half an hour in silence, “that Calypso will probably come after you with guns blazing during our next challenge.”

Laughing because the thought had crossed her mind, she nodded. “Oh, I’m aware of the favoritism being shown. Trust me. After my amazing defeat of her granddaughter—”

He cleared his throat. “Our amazing defeat. Let’s not forget that I saved your delectable, little arse when all was said and done.”

Twirling on him, she slammed her palm against his chest, trying to ignore the way his laughing eyes made her stomach feel suddenly topsy-turvy. “I had the game in hand, was set to end Owiot, and you—”

“Would you really have killed him?”

There was no more laughter in his voice when he asked that question, just a broody concentration that made her toes curl in her boots and her skin prickle with a wash of goose bumps. Freyr was incredibly intense when he wanted to be. She swallowed hard, feeling as though her tongue had just swollen to double its size in her mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered honestly.

And though she wondered whether she should feel an inkling of shame after that admission. She didn’t. She’d wanted to believe herself evolved, that she’d learned from the mistakes of her past and had become someone better. Not a dark witch anymore. Not really. But she was. Deep down, that’s exactly what she was.

There was now and always would be a seed of darkness inside her heart. She’d been born a spirit nature long ago in a frosty, frozen village, deep inside the heart of Russia. She’d been raised not by a mother and father, but by the ancient souls of dark and light.

Her purpose as she’d understood it then, and even now, was simply to bring both death and life through rebirth. She was as comfortable with the one as she was with the other. She also hated to lose. At anything. Ever.

His fingers wrapped around her chin, and those penetratingly clear blue eyes of his seemed to transform. No longer did she stare at the laughing, smiling god of nonsense, but at an ancient as old as time itself. One worthy of reverence and respect. She sucked in a sharp breath at that disconcerting thought.