A Harmony of Hearts: Book 3 in the Spellsinger Series Read online

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Thor’s whisper was so close to my ear, it tickled and made me jump at the same time.

  Brahma laughed and leaned his face into one palm. “I wouldn’t either. You don’t have the perfection of a goddess but perfection can be tiring. Your looks are unique, even for a human. I see a charming mix of ethnicity in your face.”

  “Yep, I’m a mutt.”

  “I’d wondered about your people,” Thor looked down at me intently.

  “I’m human,” I smiled sweetly, “they're all my people.”

  Brahma chuckled. “Oh, I like her.”

  “You’ve already got your hands full, Brahma,” Thor narrowed his eyes at the Hindu god. “Are you still cheating on Sarasvati?”

  “I’m a god,” he drew himself up; “I must attend to my followers.”

  “I’m sure your wife finds that comforting,” Thor snorted.

  “We’ve gotten off subject,” Brahma spread his hands in a let’s not fight gesture. “I’d still like to know which people you’re descended from, Godhunter.”

  “Call me Vervain, or V if you prefer,” I squirmed. Why were we talking about me? “I’m Irish, English, Dutch, French, German, Japanese, Cherokee, and Blackfoot.”

  Thor’s eyes widened. “All of those?”

  “I like to think of myself as a preview of what the world will be like someday,” I shrugged. “In the future, we’ll all be so mixed up, there will be only one race; Human.”

  “Very noble,” Brahma grunted, “but it will never happen. You people take too much pride in what separates you. Look at me for example,” he waved a hand over himself. “Do you think I was born this way? No. Humans are so egotistical, they want their gods to look like them. Man was made in God's image, my ass! Man made gods in their own image. It's why Christ looks like a white man, even though history says he was Jewish. He's neither actually, he's Atlantean but when he first became a god, he looked Jewish because those were the people he chose to align himself with. But the Jews didn't want him and when Christianity spread, the white people wanted him to look more like them. With the change in belief, Christ's appearance changed. Actually, it was pretty funny. We used to tease him all the time about how he looked whiter each time we saw him. My but you're looking awful white this morning, we'd say.” Brahma chuckled as I gaped at him. “Kind of like Michael Jackson but that's a different story entirely. What I'm trying to say is that your pride in your differences is your people's greatest weakness. It’s what the other gods use to their advantage. There will always be one race who thinks they’re better than another.”

  “There’s still hope for us,” I didn’t like the bizarre but truthful ring to his words. “I’m living proof.”

  “That you are,” Thor played with the baby hairs around the nape of my neck and it sent tingles over my scalp. “You’re also the best mix of all of your ancestors. I like the blending of you.”

  “Ah, that’s precisely what I was trying to say,” Brahma smiled widely, showing off even white teeth.

  “Well aw shucks, boys,” I smirked.

  I wasn’t entirely sure if they were just messing with me or not, so I felt safer to just go with the old standby sarcasm. Both of the “boys” seemed equally baffled and amused by my attitude but we were once more interrupted by an arrival. This time they just used the stairs.

  A Native American couple strode in, hand in hand. I guess Thor wanted to represent both types of Indians. Maybe it was because of my heritage but I preferred them to Brahma instantly. The Hindu god was just a little too slick for my taste.

  The man had on a crisp, white, dress shirt tucked into dark blue jeans which were in turn tucked into cowboy boots. His long, black hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail that caught the light with blue shimmers. He had golden brown skin that practically glowed, high cheekbones, and a generous mouth. Almond shaped eyes, rimmed thickly in long lashes, glittered like chipped obsidian as they settled on us and the man smiled.

  “You found the Godhunter,” he bowed slightly at the waist and I was shocked to realize that he was bowing to me. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, little warrior. I’m Tsohanoai of the Navajos. This is my consort Estsanatlehi.”

  The woman moved forward and with her came a warm breeze smelling of rain. She smiled and her long black hair flowed around her hips in a sudden breeze. She was slightly darker than her husband or maybe it was just that his skin was so bright, it made her look darker. Her cheekbones were just as high as his but her lips were fuller and were a deep red, like she'd just gorged herself on blackberries. She was dressed as simply as Tsohanoai, in a cotton dress of light blue.

  “I’m sorry our son will not be joining us,” her voice was as sweet as her face but there was an underlying strength to it. “Nayenezgani receives the prayers of the warriors before battle and he believes his power is only in war.”

  Tsohanoai came up behind her and pulled out a chair. She sank into it gracefully, slipping her long hair over the back so she wouldn’t sit on it. I was mesmerized and silently hoped she would be the end of the beauty parade for the evening. I didn’t think my ego could handle much more.

  “Nice to meet you both,” I stammered. What was the correct greeting for a god anyway? Where was Miss Manners when you needed her?

  They smiled at me warmly and Tsohanoai put his arm over the back of his consort’s chair, mimicking Thor and I. The reminder of how intimate I must look with Thor made me wince and sit straighter. I could practically feel him frowning at my movement. I turned and looked over my shoulder… yep, big Viking frown. I think I preferred it to all the smiling he’d been doing anyway.

  “Is this everyone?” I was still a little ticked off at being so out of the loop and having to blunder my way through all the surprises. These were beings I hunted for the good of humanity, I didn’t expect to be having tea with them and I still wasn’t convinced they weren’t all evil. The only thing that kept me from bolting was the power of Thor’s blood. I could still feel it zipping through my body. I knew deep down that he’d made a true oath and he wouldn’t harm me. That didn’t prevent others from attempting it though.

  “We’re waiting on two more,” Thor had a little crease between his eyes and I was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “Ah, here they are.”

  There was a loud screeching followed by a muttered oath and the sound of crashing. Thor didn’t seem the least bit concerned. In fact, he had a little of his smile back. An average sized man walked in waving his arms about his head furiously. A large falcon swept past him and landed on the armor in the corner.

  “Curse you, Horus,” the man griped. “Watch where you’re flying.” He noticed the group of us staring at him finally and smiled brightly. “He can be such a birdbrain.”

  A loud screech filled the room as the falcon launched himself at the man, who then dove for cover. The falcon stopped short and hovered with great flaps of his wings. Bird-form blurred and elongated until it was no longer a bird but a man dressed in a black, short-sleeved shirt and slacks.

  “The falcon is one of the wisest winged creatures there is,” the ex-bird-now-man looked down his long nose at the other, who was climbing to his feet.

  “Then why do they even have the term birdbrain?” Mr. Average stretched his neck up so he could poke his face impudently into the taller man’s. He was dressed more casually, in torn jeans and a yellow shirt which read Everyone panic, I’m here. They looked like two opposite sides of the social spectrum.

  “It’s a ridiculous term made by humans who know nothing of the amazing avian mind.” The ex-bird was as regal looking as he sounded and I was back to staring again. His skin was the light gold of a falcon’s feathers and his nose was just a step away from the beak it previously was. There was more intelligence in his brown eyes than warmth and his bearing was so grand, my knees buckled with the urge to curtsy. Good thing I was still seated.

  “No one knows the avian mind because they have no mind. Their brains are about
the size of a pea.” The smaller man batted at his curly brown hair which kept falling into his eyes. It seemed to want to play as much as he did. It was kind of charming. In fact, the more you looked at him, the more charming he became. His lips seemed to be constantly on the verge of smiling, even when he was fighting with the bird. His hazel eyes held even more merriment than his lips and his face ended in a pointed chin like an elf. To top it all off, I caught a glimpse of little horns hiding in all those curls.

  “Pan,” Thor’s voice rumbled out, making the name into a warning.

  “Pan?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief from my voice. Both men turned to me, Horus with a frown and Pan with a radiant smile. “Pan, as in reed pipes and wood nymphs?”

  “The one and only,” he bowed gallantly and left Horus sputtering behind him. “And you are Lady…?”

  “Vervain,” I said as I smiled. Why was I smiling?

  “Ah,” Pan's smile turned sensual, “I love flowers, they have such sweet nectar in their depths.”

  “It's actually a herb,” I said but Thor spoke over me.

  “Pan,” Thor’s voice was a low growl and the potted orchid on the table actually shook.

  “My mistake,” Pan backed away still grinning. “I didn’t know this bloom was already plucked.”

  “There's been no plucking,” I shot a nasty look at Thor, hoping he caught the message that I didn’t appreciate this type of protection. What; did he think it would make it easier if everyone thought we were an item? Not like he could be seriously into me or anything and not like I cared… much.

  “Hmmm,” Pan moved forward again, this time he claimed a chair next to the Navajo goddess. “Which is it then, Thor, plucked or un-plucked?”

  Tsohanoai moved his wife closer to him as he eyed Pan.

  “She’s spoken for,” Thor leaned forward to glare at Pan.

  “Hey now,” I shrugged Thor’s arm off. “There’s been no plucking or speaking of plucking and there will be no plucking period. Can we find another word for plucking, one that doesn’t rhyme with plucking?”

  “Enough,” Horus walked stiffly to the table and sat in one of the end chairs like he was about to bring the meeting to order. Big surprise there. “We’re not here for you to play your silly games with a human, Pan. I would like to know what she’s doing here though.” He looked pointedly at Thor.

  “I caught her stealing the same information I went to Valhalla to collect,” Thor leaned back and let that tidbit sink in before continuing. “When I realized who she was, I decided to ask her to join us. I think she’ll be valuable and besides, it’s the humans’ fight too.”

  “And who is she? What makes her so valuable?” Horus crossed his muscular forearms and the short sleeves of his linen shirt rode up to expose a detailed tattoo of a falcon in flight. Too detailed in fact. I’d never seen ink like it. It was like a real bird had been miniaturized and pressed into his skin. Kinda creepy actually.

  “She’s the only human who has ever managed to kill our kind,” Thor spoke very quietly but the words seemed to ring out.

  Horus and Pan sat forward with a gasp. Evidently, I was known by sight to only some of the gods. I felt like I had just had my superstar status revoked. Oh well, there goes my fifteen minutes. Fame can be so fickle.

  “The Hunter?” Horus lifted his head and scanned me dubiously. “This is the Godhunter?”

  “There’s no need to get nasty now,” I didn’t know what was worse, having a nickname among the gods or not living up to it.

  Horus narrowed his eyes. “You don’t look strong enough to kill gods.”

  “Well you don’t look like an asshole but there you go,” I almost clamped my hand to my mouth.

  I had no filter; the words went straight from my brain and out my mouth. It made me a horrible liar and got me into heaps of trouble. I think the only thing that saved me was the immediate laughter of all the other gods.

  “Come on, Horus,” Thor clamped a large hand down on Horus’s shoulder and I saw him wince. “Admit it, that was funny… and you deserved it.”

  Horus did no admitting and no laughing but the tension did seem to ease from his shoulders. He sat back, nodded, and that was that.

  “Okay,” Thor said, “let’s get started then. Vervain, the documents please.”

  I leaned back into the chair so I could reach down into my jeans, which also put me further into Thor’s side. His breath was in my hair, his scent suddenly stronger, and I quickly yanked the papers from my pants. He took them from me and smoothed them gently on the table. I watched his touch linger over the paper and had a brief moment of imagining those fingers somewhere else. What was it I said about amateurs falling for their prey? I was starting to feel like a supreme moron. Thor turned abruptly and stared at me, slowly raising an eyebrow.

  “What?” It came out a little harsher than I intended. Nerves have a habit of turning me into a bitch.

  “Did you want to look this over with me?” Thor’s eyebrows shot downward and I felt even worse for being paranoid. So, of course, I got snappier.

  “Why, do you only read Old Norse?” As soon as the words came out, I felt like an ass. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “I could hazard a guess,” Pan piped up from across the table but was shushed gently by Estsanatlehi.

  “It's forgotten,” Thor hadn’t even glanced at Pan. He started to skim over the document. “The next strike will be in Washington DC; they’re going to instigate an attack on a peace rally through some al-Qaeda terrorists.”

  “Well, that’ll put a damper on the party,” I leaned in closer to see it for myself.

  “Even the protesters will back the war after being shot at,” Horus twisted his lips into a mockery of a smile. “Nothing like murder and mayhem to beget more murder and mayhem.”

  “So what do we do about it?” I looked around the table and the whole thing took on a surreal quality for me. These weren’t just people I was talking shop with, they were gods.

  They all looked at me, the lone human in their midst, and I’m sure more than a few of them wondered how I could possibly help. Hell, I wondered it. I was more of a surprise ambush kinda girl and even then, I had to psych myself up every time I got ready to hunt. I guess all warriors have a battle cry to help bolster their spirits. Mine went something like: I don’t wanna diiiiiie! Well, it was more of an internal battle cry.

  “So we go and we stop them,” Brahma looked bored. In fact, he was paying more attention to the minuscule pieces of dirt beneath his fingernails than he was to us. When he finally looked up and saw our expressions, he huffed. “What? How hard could it possibly be?”

  Fairy-Struck

  Book 1 in The Twilight Court Series

  You can get this book for FREE every 10th day of every month.

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time, isn't that how all fairy tales begin? Except this isn't your average fairy tale. There are no charming princes or wicked witches within these pages and the fair maidens are more deadly than any big bad wolf. This is a fairy tale in the truest sense of the words; a story about fairies... the real story.

  My name is Seren Sloane and I'm an Extinguisher. That will mean nothing to you, I'm sure, so let me go back a little further. No one knows the true origins of the fey, I don't think even the fey themselves remember, but theories abound. One has them evolving alongside us but where we advanced in groups, banding together to become stronger, the fey morphed out of those outcast predators who were too wild for a pack. Those who don't believe in evolution, think instead that the fey issue from divine creations, angels fallen from God's grace. Yet another tale insists they were gods themselves, or demi-gods, led by a mother goddess named Danu.

  A final theory suggests they were not gods or angels or outcasts, merely nomads from an advanced civilization. The Scythians or Sidheans, from which the word sidhe originates. Myths tell of these talented Sidhe coming to Ireland where they flung about their magic and generally wreck
ed havoc until the aggrieved locals fought back and forced the fey to retreat into their raths, holy shrines now known as fairy mounds. History has disguised the raths as burial mounds even though originally, they were thought to be royal palaces for portal guardians. Although I cannot validate the rest of the tale, I do know this; the fey don't live under mounds of dirt. The original descriptions strike closer to the truth. The raths shrouded portals not corpses. Hidden paths to the fairy world, a realm laid parallel to ours and not at all underground.

  Anyway, we did just fine living side by side with them until humans started destroying the environment around those entrances to Fairy. Fairies don't like it when you mess with nature and when they stroll from their magical abodes to find that mess strewn all over their backyard, they get even more pissy. So they began to fling the mess back. All those old stories about fairies stealing babies and striking people with wasting diseases, stem from this time period. Things got real bad, so bad that those of us who had the gift of clairvoyance and could actually see fairies, joined together to defend the human race.

  The first Human-Fey war erupted across Eire, now known as Ireland, and the losses on both sides were staggering. After the third war, a grudging truce was finally attained and councils were created to mediate between the races and support the truce with laws approved by both sides. A good start to be sure but laws flounder and fail if they can't be enforced. Both councils conceded jurisdiction over their people to the other, agreeing upon the penalties to be meted out should someone be found guilty of a crime. Rules for determining guilt and administering justice were set into place and military units were sanctioned to carry out the verdicts of the councils.

  The fairies created the Wild Hunt. They gathered the fiercest, most terrifying of their people and trained them to stalk the shadows of our world, watching us like guardian angels until one of us breaks the law. Then the angels become devils who do much more than watch. Trust me when I say you don't want to ever meet a member of the Hunt.