34. Maeve

34

Maeve

" I will kill him!" Maeve's father cried with so much venom she feared being poisoned just hearing his words. "My—oh, by Danu's will, must it be this?"

Standing there, skin still stinging from the power Ankou had thrown at her a moment before, Maeve could not believe what she was seeing. The god of death was pulling at his hair and crying, tears streaming down his face as he beheld Lydia.

Who was so brave as to simply stand there, staring up at him, her hands loose at her sides and expression more confused than anything.

"Father," Maeve started, coming to his side. "Who are you going to kill?"

Ankou was trembling, shaking so violently he seemed like he might collapse. "Tegal," he hissed. "I will ensure he pays for this a hundred times over."

Hesitating for a moment, Maeve reached out and put a hand on her father's forearm. He looked at her, golden-yellow eyes red-rimmed. She had never seen him look so human. "Talk to us. What do you see? What is going on? Thea told us she is marked by you, and by Tegal, but that is all we know. That, and she has lived so many times. Repeating her life."

More tears fell, streaking the pale skin of her father's severe face, and he turned back to Lydia, taking a step toward her.

She took one back, eyes wide.

"I will not hurt you," he said gently, his voice still so raw. "I only wish to see."

Lydia's voice was thin but strong. "You're going to take me to your world. To death. I've died before. That's hurt enough."

"Not yet, little one," he said. "And I will ensure that passage will never cause pain again. Please."

Rodan stood behind Lydia, a hand on her shoulder. Looking at him, Maeve felt such a swelling of love at the fierce protectiveness in that gaze, aimed directly at Ankou.

"I believe your grandfather only wishes to see the depth of what happened to you," High Priestess Thea said gently, standing well back along with the others. "You need not fear, Lydia. This may help us put an end to it."

Jen, who was clutching Troy's arm and staring between the happenings, said in a small, trembling voice, "Why does it feel like this is the start of something?"

Cedric, who to her knowledge Maeve had not yet heard speak, had a rich voice. Deep and soothing. His broad dark hand stroked down Thea's back as he addressed the room. "Because we are in the presence of divinity, the source of all life and beginnings." He paused. "And endings."

Maeve turned her attention back to her father and daughter, who had stayed very still. Stomach twisting, she crossed to Lydia's side, offering her hand. She took it, and Maeve squeezed her fingers. "It'll be okay," she murmured.

And she desperately hoped she was right.

Lydia's black eyes were like pools of midnight water. When she nodded, slipping from Maeve's grip and stepping forward, there was a determinative set to her shoulders. "What happens?"

Ankou extended his hand. "I just need a moment's touch."

"You'll see everything?"

"Yes," he confirmed, and Maeve could tell he was struggling to regain the composure she had always seen in him. "But nothing you've done or gone through would make me turn from you."

Lydia's chin wobbled, but after a brief hesitation she slipped her hand into the gods.

Ankou did not blink, though Maeve could swear she saw a flicker of pure light cross the orbs of his eyes before he pulled his hand away, looking deeply troubled. "A thousand lifetimes," he said. "Exactly."

Pulling in a sharp breath, Lydia said, "This is the thousandth?"

"Yes, dear one," he said, voice gruff as he turned away and moved closer to the windows. The party made a path for him at once, and he stood for a while with his hands deep in his pockets, staring. When next he spoke, he still watched the thriving human city. "The mark Tegal put upon you is one of life, never-ending. But Danu would not have enjoyed this. You are in your own pocket of time, but taking pieces of each of the many worlds, drawing them to you. Those cracks my daughter sensed in you? They are spreading throughout this world, this Nexus."

Maeve's hair started to stand up along her spine. She glanced at Gladys, whose eyes were wide. Touching briefly on projected surface thoughts, Maeve could tell the human was wondering if this were truly a god, and if this were truly happening.

Giving her a soft smile, she turned her attention back to her father. "Earth is a Nexus. My mother said so, as did you. So, what Lydia has gone through? It's echoing through the worlds, is it not?"

Ankou was still for a moment before a slow nod. "I believe so." He sighed then turned to the assembled. "The vampires will certainly attack this place before long. Lydia, there is more than just Omar Cabello who have been invited into your home. You should relocate to one of your safe houses. I can take you all directly to whichever one you choose, to limit your exposure to these creatures."

Maeve, who had gone back to Lydia and Rodan, looked at her daughter. "Multiple houses?"

"It's important to have options," she breathed, then directed her next question at Ankou. "So you're not taking me?"

Maeve could hear the hope in that voice, and felt her throat tighten up at the answer.

"Not yet. When this has all concluded, and the worlds are safe, we will return to my realm together. Whatever must happen, I believe it essential that she be here. For now." There was a beat of silence before he said, "My dear child. If it were up to me entire, you would have already repaid the debt many times over, but we do not abide by my rules and desires. We go by Danu's. This is the way it must be."

Lydia's chin trembled and then tears were streaming down her cheeks. Shaking, she turned to Rodan, who embraced her, allowing her to bury her head in his chest. He looked over her head at Maeve, who bore his stare.

"Be prepared to leave within an hour," Ankou said gently from behind them. "I will return soon."

The air was lighter, the moment her father disappeared. But it allowed her to hear her daughter's soft crying.

Maeve glanced at the others. "Why don't you all gather your things? Here," she waved her hand, creating an array of luggage. "These should suffice."

They seemed to understand the subtle request for privacy. Maeve watched them gather pieces, standing sentinel by her bondmate and child. When Thea left at the end, casting a final glance behind her shoulder, Rodan spoke. "We might have found a better way."

Maeve shook her head. "Not and abide by the promise we've made." She would no longer say it was his alone. Not when she would have been forced to make the same bargain. "Eventually he would have had to know about her, and sooner was the correct choice. You saw how angry he got." She shivered, echoing with the sensation of that powerful snap of reprimand he had sent her way.

Lydia was still crying, holding her father, her thin arms around his waist, and yet when she spoke her voice was clear. "She's right. It was a matter of time. I have been running from this too long."

Rodan put a wide hand at the back of her mess of dark curls, his face hard with anger and regret. His voice was hoarse, as though he had been screaming. "It should not matter. This is not fair to you, my darling. I am so sorry."

Maeve almost felt as though she were an interloper. A witness to something, instead of a participant. They were already so well bonded, and yet Lydia had known him the least of them all, apparently, only knowing her father through words and letters before now.

Even though there had been, apparently, many lifetimes in which Lydia and Maeve had known one another, she had the feeling her daughter did not quite trust her. And considering all which had just happened, Maeve could not blame her.

Her daughter had pleaded, after all, to spare her from being taken to death's domain.

But Maeve had prayed for Ankou regardless.

"I'm sorry," she whispered now, feeling as though the walls were starting to close in. As though she needed to run. She took a steadying breath, then another, trying to will herself into calm. "You're both right. This is not fair."

And this is because of me, a part of her whispered. This is because I trusted every stupid thing placed before me. She should have known better than to have drunk so deeply when the household had been hostile to her from the start.

Alexa's smiling, laughing eyes danced in her vision, and she backed up a step.

Through the bond she heard a whisper of Rodan's voice. Don't leave us.

She felt stifled. Trapped.

Pulling at her hair, Maeve paced, keeping within a small circle near the two most important people in all the worlds to her. The others were without the apartments, getting ready. So many lives, so many who she cared for and had pledged to keep safe.

But I am causing pain, she said back down the bond to Rodan. Surely it would be better if I left?

He leveled her with a look over their daughters head. More pain is caused by your absence.

"I swear I can hear you two talking," Lydia muttered, chuckling a little as she finally broke the embrace Rodan had gently held her in. "When it gets too quiet, I know you're speaking through that bond of yours."

Maeve watched her wipe her eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief Rodan handed her, black and soft-looking.

Sniffling, Lydia took a deep, hitching breath. "I thought—" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, trying again. "There was a part of me which always hoped there was a reason for my life. For how it has gone, so often. Now I'm going to be taken into death without knowing who has been killing me all these years." She laughed, hollow sounding, not looking at either of them now but at the great expanse of the dark park beyond the partially reflective windows. The three of them seemed to float there, above the city. Lydia's eyes met Maeve's in reflection. "Will you find him?"

She nodded.

Rodan said, "I will ensure his death is slow."

"I don't care about that," Lydia insisted, still locked with Maeve. "I just want him dead, so he'll be somewhere I can get to him."

Chills ran down her back. Her daughter's words had been so cold, and Maeve knew Lydia would be the one who ensured the killer's suffering, when it came down to it. Just as Ankou had ensured those who had gone after Maeve were now engaged in a similar cycle of pain.

They will suffer for all the rest of eternity, for what they did to you.

Coming closer to the two of them, Maeve said, "I will be sure he is delivered to you."

Lydia smiled, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, but dark with hatred. "Thank you, mama."