Page 41 of Postpartum Spells & Infant Hells

He rapped a knuckle against the counter. "That connection may be the only opening that's ever existed. You could reach for that child and use him. It might even be a way for you to go in after him. That’s a theory I have, yet I can’t prove. But it cuts both ways, Phoebe. If Orenthiel works out how to use it before you do, he can reach you the same way. We have no way to ensure Aidon can move faster should you be targeted, so for tonight, you only have to survive. After that, we find out what your sight really does. And whether it's the way in that’s never existed."

"We’ve faced worse with less and came out on top." I looked around the kitchen at everyone. "We need to make sure we give him a wound he can't walk away from."

"I'll lock down what I can from below before it starts," Hades offered. "Persephone's people will hold the soul gates if anything spills over. I won't be standing in this kitchen when it comes for you. If something happens to you, Phoebe, I’m going to be upset. I’ve come to like you. I love your children and would hate to see any harm come to you."

Nana got to her feet, the shotgun tucked against her side like an old grievance she'd stopped apologizing for, and every scrap of humor had drained out of her face. "It's a good plan, Phoebe. Right up to the part where we have to lean on the word of a liar."

"This is just the beginning,” Elena insisted. “The scholars don’t have all the information. I believe Mnemar is onto something with Phoebe’s unique sight. We can refine the plan to something more effective. There are circumstances this time that have never been seen before. We cannot assume the rules apply the same way.”

CHAPTER 17

We talked for several more hours, discussing the plan as if it would come together better the hundredth time. Elena had us back at the table for a fifteenth time with fresh coffee and biscuits. Between her, the scholars, and a great deal of arguing nobody enjoyed, the half-formed blueprint from the night before felt more solid.

By the time the sky started thinking about lightening, Hades had returned to the Underworld. Aidon and Therion had the central sigil cut into the yard out back. It was more of a swamp after all the rain, so it had taken a lot of time and magic. Now every soul under my roof had a part in the upcoming fight. I should have felt steadier for it. Instead, I plodded into the kitchen, feeling as if we'd built a very elaborate fence around a being that didn't use gates.

"Well, look who finally dragged herself down. You've got the complexion of week-old grout.” When I made a face at Nana, she continued saying, “And the disposition to match. Let me guess. You spent what was left of the night standing guard as if the dark would take one look at you and think better of it." Nana set a mug of her tar-black coffee in front of me when I dropped into a chair at the island.

"You never know, it might." I cupped both hands around the mug and let the heat scald a line down my palms. "I'm very intimidating before sunrise. Ask anyone."

"You're about as intimidating as a wet sock, baby girl." She blew across her coffee without breaking eye contact with me. "Drink that and eat those muffins Mythia made. They have that pistachio stuff you love so much inside them."

I took several bites of chocolatey, nutty goodness and groaned as the carbs absorbed some of the sludge churning in my stomach. Brenna slid into a chair and accepted the mug that Nana slid to her, barely hiding her grimace when she looked inside. Mythia drifted past my shoulder and set down some juice without being asked. "Chewing keeps your hands busy, and busy hands stay steady," she murmured with a smile.

“These are delicious. I love that you’ve embraced my obsession with this combination. One of the first things I think about each day is what you might try next,” I told her with a laugh.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she smoothed her tiny leather top. "I gave up on anybody tasting my food this morning, so don't bother pretending. I’m just glad you’re keeping your strength up."

I extended a finger in her direction as a scowl creased my features. “Are you kidding me? It's impossible not to taste your food. The flavors explode on your tongue as if they’re having a party. Without you and Mom, we would be a weak mess.”

The kitchen was invaded by my older kids, my mate, and three crying babies. “That’s my cue,” I told Mythia before she could respond.

I started nursing the babies. The day did what these waiting days always do. It stretched thin as spun sugar, and then it snapped. Rust-colored light was bleeding out over the backyard when Hades arrived to pace the central sigil with Aidon. The God of the Underworld looked in the windows and waved at the babies before joining Aidon. The two of them were out past the deck with their heads bent over the burned-in lines. Curious, I opened the window to listen to what they were saying.

"Right here." Aidon planted his boot on the eastern arc. "I’m worried about this point. Will the recoil throw it east and not back down my throat?"

"You’ve done solid work, son. I trust your power. However, I’m certain of nothing where this creature is concerned. He’s too much of an unknown." Hades crouched and pressed two fingers flat to the scorched ground. "Every single being that has ever feared an ending runs from it the same way. In the process of escaping, they tend to throw magic around. And we don’t know enough about this one."

Hades made some suggestions for changes to the sigil. I drifted out onto the porch as I listened to them work together. They sounded like any other father-son pair. It put their relationship into perspective. I hadn’t ever really considered that Hades loved Aidon like any other father did his son. It humanized the god to me.

They caught me on the porch steps afterward. Aidon curled a hand around my jaw and tipped my face up to his. "I'm going to check the dampers one more time before dark," he murmured against my mouth, then pressed a kiss there that lingered a beat longer than it needed to before he straightened and stalked back inside.

Hades watched him go, then jerked his chin toward the black smudge of the tree line. "Walk with me a moment, Phoebe."

In the two years I’d known the god, he had never once asked me to do anything. He issued decrees and let me catch up. "Sure," I agreed, pulling my cardigan tighter as I fell into step beside him across the sodden grass.

He didn't speak until the lawn gave way to mud and the house lights shrank to gold squares behind us. "There is something I don't want to say where my son can hear it," Hades began, as he turned those ancient eyes on me. "He would hear only the danger to you and your children. That fear would slow his hand at the exact moment he needs to be his fastest. I’m bringing it to you instead."

My pulse kicked up hard against my ribs. "You are genuinely terrible at being comforting, you realize," I accused, crossing my arms against the chill crawling up my spine. "Most grandfathers lead with everything is going to be fine."

"You would call me a liar to my face, and you would be correct to do it." He didn't blink or offer me a single soft edge to hold onto. "Listen to me, because the scholars gave you the basics of tonight, but we do not know everything. When Aidon poisons what Kaltherax is building, the creature will scream and reach for the brightest thing in that field to steady itself. Morrigan's relic will be a significant lure. However, some of the attention will find you. Because you are the only living soul who has ever looked into the Hollow and seen Orenthiel looking back."

"I already hate where this is going," I muttered, watching my breath fog and curl away into nothing.

"The boy who caught your eye through the tear." Hades continued, ignoring my complaint as usual. "You felt it as a child wanting to be carried home. I’m telling you what no one else in that kitchen would dare to. He may be a hook with a face. It is likely he is bait set there by the being at the center. Orenthiel does not feed the way you imagine. He lures those he wants to him and waits. He has more patience than your whole bloodline combined."

My breath caught in my throat. "If I reach for the kid," I started.

Cutting me off, he confirmed, "You will give his line a hand to pull on. As you have been told, your sight is a door that swings both ways, Phoebe. Tonight, that door must remain a window. Watch, but do not lean through it. No matter what that boy's plight does to your heart, you do not open the door."