The Magic Queen Read online

  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 wo
rds 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.

  But then he blinked, and the primordial was gone, replaced once more by the irreverent fertility god. “I like you, Baba Yaga.”

  She shivered. His fingers barely held onto her, but she felt as trapped as a bear with its paw caught in a steel trap.

  “But I’ve a challenge for you. Will you accept it?”

  He’d said the magic words, and he knew it. There was nothing in this life she loved so much as a good challenge. She was a fool to accept it. She knew this. Whatever it was, she knew without a doubt that it would be difficult for her.

  “What?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Don’t kill them.”

  Plucking his hand off her chin, she stepped back, assessing Freyr like a predator with its prey, trying to sniff out its weakness. And he let her, standing tall and proud as though in defiance of her.

  Finally, she shook her head. “Why ever not? They’ll try to kill you. If I don’t, the rest of the women will think me weak and incapable. I have to at least kill one.”

  Thinning his lips, he shook his head. “I think the goddesses are bluffing. Why go to all the trouble to search out your mates only to then demand you turn around and kill them?”

  “And gods always make sense,” she scoffed.

  His crooked grin made her pulse speed. She rubbed at the fine hairs on her forearm now standing on edge.

  “No, but Aphrodite, Themis, and Calypso aren’t stupid. Think about it for a minute.” Freyr crossed his arms and waited, letting her do exactly that.

  Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she thought about it. She had thought their rules silly when she’d first heard them. Counterintuitive really. Like Freyr said, why go to all the trouble only to have the women kill them off?

  The only reason Fable had walked away with her man today was because Freyr had chosen that exact moment to—

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Fellatio! You didn’t!”

  Obviously knowing exactly what conclusion she’d come to, he nodded. “I did. And I’ll do it again, over and over.”

  “Why?”

  “Because”—he stepped forward, and moving so fast she’d not had time to jump out of the way, he lightly ran a finger along the corner of her jaw—“I think the entire riddle of your game is to not kill. Why? Because it goes against your very nature. You’re ruthless, Baba Yaga. That’s who you are. So now...don’t be.”

  Held fast, feet rooted to the ground, Baba experienced a tumult of emotions: need, fire, desire, hot flashes, and even a tiny spark of irritation. Powerful as she was, even she wasn’t entirely immune to the powerful magick of the gods. She reached up to brush off his hand, but much to her chagrin, found herself wrapping her fingers around his wrist instead, as though to pin him fast.

  “It makes sense,” she said, enunciating each word and hoping like hell that he didn’t hear the deep inflection straining her voice.

  He dropped his hand and stepped back, casting her a strained look, one she couldn’t decipher. His eyes flicked down toward his fingers, and all he did was stare at them, almost like he was startled by something.

  Maybe he was feeling that same queerness of spirit she’d been afflicted with. But then he coughed, cleared his throat, and very deliberately curled his hand into a fist and slipped it inside his pocket.

  “I don’t think we’re going to find any food in this direction. Change of course?”

  Pouncing onto his words like a lifeline to help break the weird tension zipping between them, she nodded. “Yes!”

  Twisting on her heel, she turned and marched in the opposite direction. Tonight was going to be a very long, very weird night. She just knew it.

  Chapter 7

  Baba Yaga

  She’d been right, of course. It had been a strange night. In fact, every night for the past two weeks had been strange, full of strain between them. Things were no longer quite as easy going as they’d been before.

  Baba had battled twice more, once with the fairy queen and once with the centaur queen. Because of Freyr’s words, she’d decided to test his theories and let their males live. She’d almost paid dearly when it’d come to the centaur queen, receiving an arrow in her bum for her trouble.

  She’d wanted to rip the smile off Freyr’s face when she’d hobbled back from the fight. He’d wisely chosen to say nothing about the butt shot after that.

  Oh, Baba could have ended both their males easily. Well, maybe not so easily when it came to the fairy queen’s mate. Holy hell, she still had no idea what that thing—creature—was. She wasn’t afraid to admit he’d boggled her, and she planned to make a detailed examination of her books when she returned home to find out just what in Kingdom kind of monstrosity he’d been.

  It rankled her not to know everything about everything. Also, she’d had to do something—let’s say a little on the eccentric side, and leave it at that—to get past the fairy queen. Even now, that thought made her cringe.

&n
bsp; There’d been an unspoken agreement between her and Freyr after exiting the fairy queen’s trial. Never talk about it. Ever again.

  On top of that, Calypso hadn’t made her move. Each day that went by with no retaliation only caused Baba’s anxieties about it all to ratchet up more, which was probably the whole point. No one could play mind games like the gods. That was for sure.

  Tomorrow, she dueled with Fiera, Calypso’s sister. And deep in her gut, Baba suspected that would be when the goddess finally made her move.

  “Silver for your thoughts,” Freyr said.

  She glanced up, not realizing she’d been staring hypnotized into the dragon fire.

  She shook the gloom loose like rolling marbles. “Just thinking about revenge.”

  “Sounds dire.” He took a huge bite of apple.

  When he’d said he liked apples, she hadn’t realized how much. The deer she and Freyr had managed to bag on their first night was the only meat they’d found.

  Clearly, it’d been gifted to them by the goddesses to use as food and shelter because there was nothing more to be had. They’d walked the flatlands extensively for miles in every direction, and there wasn’t even a trace of scat on the ground.

  Thankfully, she was a hoarder by nature and had saved two of the apple seeds from before. She’d planted them in the ground beside the waters and pushed a little earth magick into them. Overnight, they’d grown into towering trees ripe with new fruit.

  “Yours or—” He tipped the hand holding the apple toward her.

  She shook her head. “Calypso’s.”

  “Ah, yes. Well, you know it’s coming. Just be on guard for it.”

  Baba gave him a no-really look. “Knowing something’s coming but not knowing what can be as dangerous as not knowing at all.”

  Finishing his fifth apple with one final, large bite, he tossed the core into the flames. It sizzled for a second before turning into black dust.

  “Tell you what”—he leaned forward on his palm, looking her in the eyes—“if I see something, I’ll yell.”

  The way the firelight danced across his razor-sharp features made her heart flutter. In the daylight, Freyr was an attractive human, but at night—oh, at night—he was more like a demon of lust come to snatch away her soul.