Awakenings

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

Hecate froze. Her voice came out flat, no hint of incredulity or emotion. “You want what?”

Leviathan’s smile faded. “You heard me, sister, now sit.”

Matt’s thoughts reeled, but the loudest thought was the most illogical of them all.

Why the hell do they always want the whole damn world? It’s not like it was ever all that great to begin with.

He tugged on Hecate’s hand until she sat. She was stiff next to him, her fingers cold in his. All he wanted to do was gather her against his chest and tell her everything would be all right—whether the words were a lie or not.

“I heard you,” she said in a whisper a moment later. “I just can’t believe it. Are you insane?”

“An odd question, coming from you.”

Hecate fell back in her chair, her eyes wide and expression bleak. “Bastard.” There was only pain in her voice. Matt squeezed her hand again.

Not good.

“You’ll have your vengeance, little sister,” Leviathan said, leaning forward across the table toward them. “You’ll make them all pay for what they did to you—for what they did to both of you.”

“What if I don’t want that anymore?” she asked. “What if, for the first time in a dozen lifetimes, my life is finally starting to go right? What if I was finally happy until you pounded on my door?” She leaned forward. “Don’t you see? I’ve gotten what I need. I have what I want. Now you come here with your demands and I—Leviathan, I want no part of this. Whatever you’re planning, do it without me.”

“I can’t,” he said simply. “If I could do this alone, I wouldn’t have come to you. This is not a situation of something I want, it’s a situation of something I need.” His gaze flicked toward Matt for the barest moment before returning to her. “That you’ve won the Ridden Druid to your side makes me feel even better about the choice I’ve made.”

Her chair scraped against the floor and the only thing that kept her from going across the table at him was Matt’s restraining hand.

“Don’t you dare drag him into this. Don’t you even think it. Do you have any idea why I hated them so much? Do you? No, of course not.” Hecate sank back down into her chair, her eyes sliding shut, jaw trembling for the barest moment. “They hurt him, you bastard. They used him as a weapon and I was the hand wielding it and they hurt him. I won’t do it again for you or for anyone.”

This time, when she stood up, she was more composed and her eyes were clear.

“Get out of my house, Leviathan,” she said softly. “Before I make it impossible for you to do that under your own power.”

The river-god stood, meeting her gaze levelly, evenly. His voice was carefully neutral. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he told her. “I will have you with me in this, Hecate. I need you.”

She walked over to the back door and opened it. “Good-bye, Yam.”

Leviathan dusted off his hoodie sweatshirt and jeans, then smiled faintly. “Until tomorrow, sister.”

Without another word, he walked out the door.

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

“Alliances.” She spat the word, her eyes narrowed. She drew up next to Matt, her hand finding his and squeezing hard. He squeezed back, schooling his face into a blank mask.

This doesn’t end well. No way this ends well.

Dammit.

“I don’t believe I stuttered, Hecate. Now have a seat and we’ll talk like civilized adults.”

Her jaw tightened. “You barge into my house uninvited and now you’re giving me orders? I hardly think this is civilized.”

“Would you have let me in otherwise?”

“No,” she admitted. She made no moves toward the table, still standing with Matt near the door. Her grip on his hand just got tighter, as if he was the only thing keeping her anchored.

He might have been, for all he knew.

“There you have it, then,” Leviathan said.

He smiled and Matt’s spine wanted to crawl right out of his body through the top of his head.

This guy isn’t what he wanted us to believe he was—I should have trusted my gut when he showed up at the gates with his army.

Shit. Where is his army?

They were near the coast—overlooking the water.

Matt’s stomach dropped.

Slowly, he moved toward the table. Hecate gave him a shocked look, but didn’t stop him from tugging her along with him.

I’ll have to explain later. She deserves that much.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“Well look at that,” Leviathan murmured, watching them as they drew close. “This is unexpected.”

Matt cleared his throat and spoke quietly as he sank into a chair. “Do what the lady says and cut your shit. You came to talk alliances. Tell us what you want.”

One corner of Leviathan’s mouth curved upward into a faint smile. “What I want is what was denied to me centuries ago. I want the world and I think that you—both of you, in fact—can help me finally claim it.”

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

Leviathan’s gaze scythed across the kitchen, taking in the abandoned pots on the stove, the remnants of meal prep on the counters, left in situ when he’d knocked on her—their—door. Then the man’s pale eyes settled on Matt and a cold, almost cruel smile creased his lips.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

“Oh. So it’s you.”

Hecate’s voice held a tremor. “If you touch him—”

“Hush, girl,” Leviathan growled without looking back. “I have no intention of harming him.”

Not yet, anyway. Matt forced himself to stand up straight and meet the man’s gaze. “Rather rude of you to barge in that way,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “Though I imagine when you are what you at least were, you don’t have to worry about that too much, do you?”

Shit, Astoris, why the hell did you just say that?

Sometimes, he wasn’t sure if he didn’t actually have a death wish.

Leviathan stared at him for a long moment—long enough that Matt started to wonder if Hecate was going to have to make good on her threat. Then the man smiled.

“You have spirit. That can be useful.”

Somehow, I don’t find that reassuring.

Hecate shoved past Leviathan, shooting him a look that could have melted steel. “Bastard. Get out of my house.”

“I don’t think so.” Leviathan wandered over to the breakfast nook and sat down, gazing at the two of them as he settled in. “We’re nowhere near done. Why don’t you two make some coffee and join me? We have a lot to talk about.”

“Really,” Hecate said, her eyes narrowing. “I can’t imagine what we’d have a conversation about.”

“Alliances,” Leviathan said softly, then gestured to the other chairs at the table. “Sit down, little sister. It’s time we had a chat.”

[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,” a man’s voice said softly, smoothly, a low rumble like waves against the shore. “Besides, I’d not be so surprised if I were you, my dear. After all, Thordin Odinson was once dead and now he’s somehow come back to life—however long that lasts, in any case.   May I come in?”

It seemed to Matt like the man wasn’t given Hecate much choice as the door’s hinges squeaked with the sound of it swinging wider, followed by Hecate’s murmured voice. “Of course. Come in.”

The man must have been wearing sandals based on how his footsteps sounded against the wooden floor. The couch creaked as he seated himself even as Matt heard the door click shut. “You don’t seem happy to see me.”

The voice was familiar—Matt knew he’d heard it before. He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment and fought to control his breathing, forced himself to stay silent. Stay calm and think. Keep our head. She can handle this. She’s kept herself a live this long without you—trust her now.

Even as he started to settle down by inches and fractions, he still couldn’t shake that bad feeling growing in his gut.

“I’m just surprised,” Hecate said. Her voice hadn’t come closer, so Matt assumed she’d lingered near the door. “Like I said, I thought you were dead. Yaweh’s power and all that.”

“Like so many of our brothers and sisters,” the man said without a trace of irony. “It heartens me to see you well, though, dear sister.”

“I’m not your sister,” Hecate said. “Don’t you forget that for a second.”

“Near enough to, but if you insist. Cousin, then?”

“Yam, cut your shit,” she snapped. “What the hell do you want? Why are you here?”

“What and why indeed,” he said softly.

It was Leviathan out there, the same man who’d shown up on their doorstep back on campus with his army of drowned souls, the one who tried to sound neutral and threatening all at once. Matt was half certain he’d angered the man when he’d suggested sending part of that army to its rest and the fact that he was here now—

Don’t let paranoia get the better of you, Astoris. Take a deep breath.

“I had simply hoped to see you well,” Leviathan said, his tone light. “I’d heard some nasty rumors of late and I’d begun to grow worried is all.”

“Really,” she said softly, sounding like she suspected he was full of shit. “Pray, tell me all about who’s telling tales about the witch-bitch of Olympium. Please, enlighten me.”

The mask was back in place, Matt could hear it in her voice. He nearly groaned aloud, thinking of the work it would take to bring her back again once this encounter was over. He could have strangled Leviathan with his bare hands.

If that’s not a sign I care, nothing is. Knowing I can’t leave her like that because it’s not the real her…

A raw ache opened inside of him, guilt that wasn’t his, guilt that was nearly as old as time—Cíar’s guilt, the one he never quite got over.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut again as his hands tightened into fists. Why the hell had fate done this to them?

There’s always some kind of reason, even if we’re not privy to it.

In the other room, Leviathan laughed.