“But they’refaehens,” Destiny said. “The fae are immortal, so they can’t?—”
“They’re only immortal to a certain extent.” Eostre looked at Pete, who sat silently, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Unless a fae has been blessed by a goddess…” She glanced at him again. “They are subject to similar laws of life as the vampires in your realm. Aside from sunlight, a fae can be killed by beheading, piercing the heart with iron, and draining of blood.”
“This is…” She wanted to say crazy, that the idea of her being part of a fae prophecy was totally bonkers. But Pete thought it ludicrous to say he was the Easter Bunny. If she wanted him to believe, she would have to dive halo first into the insanity too.
Eostre looked at Destiny, her brow pinching, a strange countenance falling across her features. Was it sadness, or maybe longing? She couldn’t decipher the goddess’s expression, but it made her want to squirm in her seat, so she looked away.
“Pete, do you remember speaking with your vampire friend?” Eostre folded her hands on the table.
He flattened his. “Vaguely. Two vampires were in Destiny’s bakery when…when it happened.” He waved a hand by his head. “But I don’t remember what we talked about.”
“Is it dark out yet?” Eostre turned to Crimson, who’d been sitting silently on a stool at the kitchen counter. “I need to speak with the vampire.”
“Just about. I’ll call Gaston.” She rose and strode into the bedroom.
The goddess stood and pushed her chair beneath the table. “I must take Pete home. I have already added disruption to the balance by meeting with you.”
Destiny knew all about the importance of balance, but the idea of Pete going “home” sat in her gut like a brick of two-week-old meatloaf. Why she felt so strongly about it, she couldn’t say, but she knew, deep in her heart, she didn’t want him to leave.
“I am home,” he said, and her breath caught.
Eostre smiled sadly. “I need you, Peter. Eastermusthappen. Our entire pantheon is at stake.”
“Bad news,” Crimson said as she returned to the kitchen. “I couldn’t get ahold of Gaston or Jane, so I called his wife, Maeve. The Magistrate sequestered the council members and their advisors to work out some kind of something or other. They’ll be out of pocket for the next two nights.”
“Did he tell Maeve anything else?” Eostre asked.
“Just what you already know about the hens.” She sank onto a stool.
“Come, Pete.” The goddess took his hand, tugging him to his feet. He followed her to the middle of the room, a look of confusion crumpling his brow.
“I don’t want to go. I belong here.” He looked at Destiny. “With her.”
“We’ll discuss it later. There’s simply no time to spare.” Eostre nodded at Destiny, and silver sparkles gathered around her. Her body turned translucent as she prepared to make the jump from the earthly realm to her own, but Pete remained solid. She tugged his hand, attempting to pull him into the magic, but he didn’t budge.
“Loki on a lemur, you have got to be kidding.” Eostre stopped sparkling and fully returned to the room. She dropped Pete’s hand and pressed her palms together, closing her eyes and tapping into her form of the collective consciousness. Or so Destiny assumed.
Funny how they came from different realms, different pantheons, yet their methods were so similar. Being the goddess of spring, Eostre was probably on the same level as Michelle in the angelic hierarchy. Maybe even higher. She could’ve been conversing with the allfather himself, right there in Crimson’s living room.
“I’ve disrupted the balance too much.” Eostre opened her eyes and parked her hands on her hips. “I can’t take you home until you remember how to get there yourself.”
Crimson arched a brow. “Your leaders won’t let you take him home, even though the prophecy talks about the end of days?”
“It’s not aboutlettingme bring him home. I physically can’t. This is all part of Fate’s plan.” The goddess waved a hand, gesturing to…well, to everything.
The end of days?Destiny’s heart sank. In her attempt to convince herself the prophecy couldn’t possibly include her, she hadn’t paid close enough attention to the words. The end of days meant the end of the world in faery speak. Did she really bringthatto their doorstep?
No, she couldn’t let it happen.
“I know angels and fae gods aren’t supposed to interact, but honestly, I’m a nobody.” She stood and clasped her hands. “My boss bound my magic because of all my screwups, so I’m basically human. Surely your higher ups will see that and let you…”
Eostre shook her head. “Destiny, my child, you must restore his memory.”
“I would if I could, but I’m magicless.”
“Then you have to find another way.” She crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself as if she were afraid she might fall to pieces.
“I have a question,” Sophie said, raising her hand. “Can’t you fix his memory? I mean, you’re a goddess and all.”
